After decades in school housing, we own very little furniture aside from bookcases. We soon will own a house. Thus this spring I have been buying furniture from yard sales and, especially, from Craigslist.
My funds are limited. I have lucked out and paid very little for some great finds. (Last month Lucy and I picked up a king mattress, box spring, and Ralph Lauren bedding for Jon and Amanda’s room from a very wealthy, kind, and eccentric older lady who was moving out of a vacation home. She opened her palatial front door and exclaimed, “Well! You two are certainly mother and daughter! Two ectomorphs!” She then proceeded to give us an hour-long tour of the house, and later, to have the bed and bedding delivered to me at the farm. “Enjoy it, dear!”)
All this searching for deals means that I have been spending a lot of time scanning Craigslist ads. I have grown reasonably adept at reading between the lines. “Drawers slightly stiff” means you can’t use any part of the dresser without a fight. “Could use refinishing” means splinters and patchy veneer.
Thus I was amused and delighted to come upon the following ad for a sectional sofa (someday I’d love to have a sectional in the basement for watching television).
Pet friendly, baby friendly sectional…can easily be vacuumed and shampooed. I want something smaller for our living room, paid $900 a year ago. It does have some seam tears because the dogs sit up top. Can be sewn or covered with a blanket. Two of the cushions zippers broke, but you can’t see that because it’s tucked in the couch.
Along with the photo of her four dogs lounging a la Go, Dog. Go! (one of my favorite books as a child), the author kindly offered several photos of her $900, one-year-old sofa’s torn seams and broken zippers. The entire ad was so very honest (dare I ask what stains or smells made the sofa “baby-friendly?) that I found it charming.
Nevertheless, unaccountably I decided to pass.