On Saturday, I woke up determined to do something about my couch. It’s been bothering me for several years – ever since I noticed a layer of dust I “forgot” to vacuum. It turns out it wasn’t dust at all, but rather foam sediment working its way through the fabric. The sofa has other issues – it squeaks whenever I sit down or stand up; bald spots have developed on the parts of the cushions I rest against the most; and the seat cushions are sagging. I’ve been reluctant to replace it because the couch has history.
It belonged to my grandmother, and it has been recovered at least two times. It sports large round (mostly) gold casters; originally there were six but I had to remove one a while ago. My mother sat on it when she told her mother that my dad was being sent to Egypt. They had just returned from their honeymoon in 1943. I sat on it countless times pouring out my woes to my grandmother. It was an integral part of family get-togethers at my grandmother’s house. Then I inherited the red couch.
Before tackling the project, I had searched the internet for ways to fix a sagging couch. One site was perfect, complete with before, in between and after pictures. Essentially the solution is to take quilt batting; wrap it around the foam until it has some uniform shape again; and then put the batting wrapped cushion back in its cover.
The first thing I noticed after unzipping one of the couch seat cushions was white stuff over top of the very deteriorated foam. I’m assuming this happened before the birth of the internet. I was starting where I wanted to end. There seems to be a lot of that in my life right now.
Since a new sofa is out of the question at this time, it’s back to brainstorming – a covering of some kind; pet protectors look promising. More investigation is needed.