My grandmother, direct from Stockholm, Sweden moved to the US when she was in her 40’s I think — just about my age.  She brought over, on the boat, her antique furniture — which I remember being in her rather large apartment. Particularly a couch and two chairs in an elegant claw-foot style with caning on the sides. I remember it being upholstered in a green silk, so that on the rare occasions I was allowed to sit on it, I would slide off. That was great fun, until I got caught

When my grandmother moved in with us, when I was 9 years old, her furniture came with her. At some point, she recovered it in a hideous maroon velvet. Gack! It was horrible, and that was the condition of the couch when I inherited it last year. You might want to shield your eyes before looking at this picture!

Eeeek!

My eyes! My eyes!!!

I’ve had it in my living room that way for about a year. No the dog isn’t dead, he decided that was “his” bed and I didn’t have the heart to kick him off when he was a puppy. But now, he has learned to stay off, because after two weeks of sewing and cussing and sewing some more, the couch looks like this!

Yay me!

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