(via the slipcover grief cycle. | the handmade home) I’m not kidding when I say I wanted to throw up a little in my mouth. Jamin finally broke the tension with a “Bless our hearts. It looks like we’re in college.” And then I began the scary laugh. At least I can say that the lumpy, uneven, salvaged furniture was, in fact, paired with the same bad decision making skills I sometimes suffered from circa 1999. If only I’d pre-washed my fabric.