But it came around the horn.....

There's just no room anywhere for my great-grandmother's rosewood loveseat. When everyone in the family admitted that they didn't really like it, I realized that I don't really like it either. What I do like about it are the memories.

When I was a young child it was in my mother's living room with a "crazy quilt" made by grandmother. These were irregular bits and pieces of material of various shapes, fabrics and colors stitched together with a variety of embroidery stitches. I could lie on the couch and look at the sizes and patterns for hours. The couch has survived, but alas, the quilt has not.

We moved to a new house when I was in high school and the loveseat came along. A trip across town was nothing compared to the fabled journey it purportedly made "around the horn" with my great grandmother and her husband who sailed from Virginia to San Luis Obispo on the central coast of California to take up a judgeship there. My mother consulted an interior decorator who took one look at the loveseat and pronounced it unsuitable. "But it came around the horn..." said my mother weakly. "Well it ought to go back", said he.The new decorator apparently liked it and chose the rather avant garde black leather upholstery.

Our well traveled loveseat is about to travel out of our lives. Can it be called "ex-stuff" once it's out of the house? We'll keep the stories.