Couch Potato

The Universe has a way of providing what one wants; it sometimes, though, has a roundabout way of doing so.

I have long thought that having a couch in my studio would be cool. Other artists have shared the joys of their studio couches––a place for an occasional nap or, more importantly, a place to get off one’s feet and look at, and think about, the work on the easel or about the next blog post. Yes, I thought, my life would be complete if I had a studio couch.

So yesterday, mu husband and I were out walking the dogs and, two doors down from our house, a neighbor had put out, just back from the sidewalk, a black leather loveseat great condition, with a sign. “Free.” People are always doing that around here.My husband, Thomas, tried out the couch and determined it “very comfortable!” (Thomas is an expert in taking naps on couches so he should know). That was all I needed. “I want it, but how would we get it home and besides, where would I put it?” (My studio is large and quite stuffed with stuff). Bowing to the impossibility of getting it home, I forgot about the couch. Thomas, however, did not.

One thing about my husband––he has a way of disappearing. I’ll look for him and find him in the garden trimming a plant, in the garage stringing a tennis racquet or wiping down his car or talking to a neighbor––I never know where he’ll be. So last evening, a number of things needed to get done before dinner and he was nowhere to be found. There were no lights on in the garage, the garden was quiet except for the buzz of the hummingbirds battling it out over the feeder––then suddenly I heard a loud discordant clang from our Costco-sized wind-chimes in the backyard, and then another, more jarring clang. I looked out the window and there he was, lugging the black leather loveseat down the walkway toward the sliding glass doors of the studio.

I admit that after nearly fifteen years with this man, he still surprises me, I think all I said was, “What the hell are you doing?” (It was pretty obvious what he was doing which shows you how gobsmacked I was). So to make an already long story short, we moved a few tables, maneuvered the loveseat through the door, placed it where I could see the easel, and viola! I now have a cool couch/loveseat in my increasingly crowded studio.

Now, I wonder what else the Universe has in store for me.