I do it every so often. Ben can sense it coming – my restlessness causing ripples around me. Sometimes it’s like awakening from a deep sleep. I open my eyes and suddenly see my home afresh. I cast my critical eye around, noticing all the unfinished details, the corners of clutter that have built up unchallenged, the arrangements of objects that yesterday seemed passable, but today offend me. We’ll be watching a film, all cosily horizontal on the sofa when I’ll jump up, move some objects around, tut, sigh, and return to my seat.
So it was without surprise that Ben greeted my words, “will you do me a favour?” Resignation was all over his face as I demanded the cabinet from my nanna’s house be dug out of the deepest darkest depths of our chocablock garage where it had been sheltering, boxed in and piled high with stuff.
Like a woman possessed, I oversaw its transfer. Shimmied it into a position in the living room. Stood back to view it from various angles. Nudged it a couple of inches to the right. Stood back. Swapped its position with its neighbouring chair. Took a seat on the sofa for a final analysis and nodded. Finally, I could declare, “It works. It’s staying.” Ben agreed, but what he liked less was the fact that by bringing the cabinet back into the mix, we’ve displaced an armchair. And he knew what was coming next.
So, 45 minutes later, the dressing table has been replaced by the vintage sofa (hefted up the stairs by the two of us), which was moved to make way for the displaced armchair, which gave up its spot for the cabinet. The jigsaw puzzle of furniture is complete again, for now.
And I’ve got a smile on my face again.
Oh how I love rearranging furniture. Try it sometime.