A Couch Makes a Home

Wren on May 9th, 2014

Tuatha and his plush toy counterpart consider the merits of the new addition to the household.

To me a couch, like a car, is a very important data point of self expression. A couch mirrors the style, even the personality of its owner/rider. It’s a sanctuary, a love nest, a theater seat, infirmary cot, magic carpet, and of course, pet magnet.

My couch has always been an anchor, whatever house I lived in. Like cars, I’ve gone through many, and am usually the final owner. When I sold my house in Louisville to move to Heathcote and sold my tapestry-fabriced two-recliner “couch potato” couch to my old roommate Jane, it was kind of a big deal. Just to remember the ultimate couch, I kept two if its cushions! Still have ‘em.

Like friends of mine who live in their cars or out of suitcases, I went couchless for several years while I resided in the tiny springhouse at Heathcote Community. Inside my little stone hut my bed doubled as my couch. And there were couches to be ridden in Heathcote’s common house, the mill. So I didn’t lack the comfort of couches.

When I moved into a larger space at Heathcote, I took an old school bus seat out of the barn to be my couch. The novelty of the school bus seat didn’t make up for its lack of comfort, nor the fact that it was heavy and dangerous when it tipped over, which it did often. It was not a sanctuary of any kind.

So I eventually got a thrift store couch, the colors of which matched my green rug beautifully for years until C.T. pointed out that the springs of the back were giving up. Comfort gone, purpose gone. Next!

Tuatha puts some miles on the orange couch.

Someone leaving Heathcote gifted me an interesting Duncan Pyle couch, extra long and low with carved wood accents and uncompromisingly orange fabric. I would have hauled that couch to California with me, but it spent a very unkind year in storage and had a smell.

So I ventured on, couchless, and the universe kept providing me with stand ins—first a plaid couch and love seat set at the ranch house in Temple Hills, Maryland where I lived for nearly a year and then, yes, the landlord of our log cabin here in Magalia agreed to leave a vinyl couch in place for us. A house is not a home without a couch.

Yet, vinyl, ick. Great stand in but my eyes would always scan the thrift and antique stores up and down Skyway, the main drag here on the ridge. Sure enough, I saw something special and C.T. and I turned around. Carved wood trim, more padded and cozy than the Duncan Pyle, it needs reupholstering, but Honey, don’t we all? The owner let us have it for $50 and he delivered it to our cabin a couple of days later. He even took the vinyl couch away, which, it turns out, the landlord had bought from this same dealer before. Couch recycling.

On the list of things we need to replace or buy in our move, the couch was a low priority. But this was a great find at a great price. And as we continue to unpack, arrange our things and hang pictures, and watch movies from our new old couch, this cabin in the woods is really starting to feel like a home!

Leave a Reply

You must be logged in to post a comment.