By the you are read this, the two-week Easter holiday break will be drawing to a close, which depending on your circumstances may be a good or a bad thing. As an American neighbour, whose family has relocated to Ireland for two years, pointed out to me in SuperValu: "Irish school holidays are long . . ."
“You should really get a PlayStation,” I advised.
I spent much of the two-week break in Ikea trying to pluck up the courage to purchase some new furniture. A couch, possibly two, and a TV stand were high priorities. When we moved to our new home in Sutton in 2011, the budget for home improvements and new furniture was, if I remember correctly, €15.67 which we wisely spent on a McDonald's drive-through just off the M50 on one of our many trips over and back from Glasnevin (the €15.67 didn't cover the hiring of a removal company either).
On that occasion we realised mid-move that a drastic cull of possessions would be needed
As we hauled boxes and furniture through our new front door, it became apparent that we were going to have the opposite problem to the one we encountered when making our initial move into a rental house in 2009. On that occasion we realised mid-move that a drastic cull of possessions would be needed if we wanted to be actually able to move around the house.
This time around it looked like everything we owned was going to fit in the hall. I remember marvelling at the space and the ease with which we could manoeuvre large items of furniture through the house but at the same time nervous of what looked like a lot of empty floor space. How were we going to make the place look furnished? I wondered.
So I decided to target Ikea as a way of killing two birds with one stone
Fast forward to Easter 2018 and with nothing more than a fortnight of Fortnite on the horizon. (Fortnite is an oddly named PlayStation game with a Hunger Games theme. It attracts teenage boys like loaves of white sliced pan and can only be stopped by disconnecting the wifi or offers of food). So I decided to target Ikea as a way of killing two birds with one stone: a diversion from "the gadgetry" for the teenagers and an attempt to make some badly needed furniture purchases for me.
To give a clearer picture, our current suite was purchased in 1998 for £600. It was bought for an investment property, which we purchased in the same year (and then remortgaged five years later to finance a badly needed supermarket in Bulgaria). Between the jigs and the reels, the suite ended up back in our possession in 2003 and after a revamp in the form of new upholstery and restuffed cushions, has remained in use by us ever since then.
There was a matching pouffe but four children, one dog, one cat and two house moves proved too much for the little footstool and it passed away some time ago.
As the couch and two armchairs have remarkably remained intact after a robust 19 years, I was tempted to get another re-upholstery job done in deference to the years of loyal service and then sit back and await my life-time award from Sustainable Energy Ireland, but I won’t lie: after 15 years I was sick to the back teeth of that couch and chairs.
Nevertheless, for old times’ sake I made enquiries as to what the cost of re-upholstering them might be. I was quoted €1,000 to recover the couch (a high backed, deep buttoned, Queen Anne-style three-seater) and €400 each for the matching armchairs. New filling for the cushions would be extra.
With the sweetener of a hot-dog or possibly even meatballs thrown in to the deal, the Hunger Games combatants were lured out of the garage and brought on an excursion over the M50 to check out the Swedish competition. Judging by the crowds out there it seemed like plenty of others had the same idea. Two weeks is a long time if you're not a teacher, aren't going away anywhere or don't own a PlayStation.
I am hopelessly unable to make up my mind on major decisions
My fact-finding mission revealed that I could get a brand new three-seater with a matching two-seater for €1,100 including delivery. Yes I know that a new Ikea suite may not even last 15 months never mind years but we could overcome that by leaving it in the flat-packs for the first few years. It was academic anyway as I am hopelessly unable to make up my mind on major decisions such as furniture purchases and we came away that day empty-handed (well, apart from the obligatory tea lights, serviettes, picture frame, bathroom mat and saucepan). But I made three follow-up visits (sans teenagers) before finally making a decision.
Sorry reducers and recyclers, I couldn't resist. As I write this I am awaiting the arrival of 20 packages (really) featuring a lot of Råtorp. (Oh God what have I done?) And that old campaigner, my trusted Queen Anne suite, is headed for the garage to spend the next phase of its life becoming an expert in Fortnite.
I couldn’t bear to dispose of it just yet even though Ikea does offer a “take away” service for an extra €25. But as the old Swedish saying goes, Breaking up is never easy, I know, but (you) have to go. Knowing me Knowing You, it’s the best I can do.
