Sofa, so not good.......

Who would have thought it would be so difficult to find a sofa to replace the ones we've sold?

Not us, obviously.

After all the internet is awash with sofas of every shape, size, colour and price.

The problem is, the ones we like we can't afford, and the ones we can afford we don't like.  There's probably a deep philosophical conundrum, or penetrating insight into the human condition in there somewhere but I'm fed up and can't be bothered to look for it.

We know what we want.

Something warm and squishy that all three of us can sprawl out on in complete comfort.  Colour is important (it's that perfect blue again!) as is shape, height of the seat backs and something called 'reach'.

We went to look at a secondhand sofa yesterday afternoon, which on paper looked perfect.  Originally it must have cost ££££s and the house it came from was big and posh.  However our initial jubilation was tempered as soon as we sat on it, and the twanging of springs declared that it would need to be resprung to stop us being swallowed into its innards.  It also smelt rather strongly of dog..... not a smell I would ordinarily object to, so long as it's our own dog. 

So, taking into account having to book a van with two men to transport it home, plus respringing, cleaning, plus new loose covers, the bargain wasn't quite such a bargain after all.

Talking on the way home in the car, we spontaneously decided to take a 30 mile detour to a large sofa showroom to look at some new ones.  

We sat, we lounged, we sprawled, we relaxed,  we bounced, we plumped cushions, we examined fabrics..... but mostly we struggled like beached whales to extricate ourselves from ENORMOUS sofas.

Why do they make them so big?  This 'reach' of which I spoke at the beginning of this post, refers to the distance between the seat back and the front.  I appreciate that I'm shorter than average, but most of these sofas must have been made for people well in excess of 6' tall.  On some, when I sat with my bum right against the seat back, only my feet and ankles extended beyond the edge of the cushion!  

I felt like Alice after she'd had the 'Drink Me' potion.  

Granted, there is comedy value in watching me trying to shimmy toward the front of the thing in order to leap off, but it's anything BUT relaxing.  I'd probably have to fall over onto my side and try to roll off it.

So we're having a rethink.

At this rate, we'll be sitting in our camping chairs in front of our new woodburner next week.