Hello! Kylee here. I recently shared an update on our townhouse and promised to tell the story of how we managed to get our two couches into the new living room. If you’ve ever moved into a small house — or live with a very frugal partner — you might relate.
In our previous basement apartment, affectionately called “The Cave,” we had inherited a red leather couch and a matching loveseat that originally belonged to my grandparents. They’re well-made and comfortable, but their color and style weren’t what I would have chosen. After five years with them, I hoped to start fresh in our new space, and I spent hours searching for the perfect sofa or sectional to fit the layout and my aesthetic.
My husband Lance, however, had other plans. He was determined not only to remove the red couches from the apartment but to get them up the narrow stairs into our townhouse. Lance is practical and frugal, and spending thousands of dollars on a new sectional when we already had two good leather pieces wasn’t something he wanted to consider. I was skeptical the larger couch could even be extracted from the apartment, much less hoisted to the second floor, but I humored him — if it was a necessity, keeping the old furniture felt responsible.
Part One: Out of the apartment
Moving day arrived, and the effort to free the sofas began. After being stuck in the elevator for nearly an hour, twisting and turning the couch in every direction and nearly damaging the ceiling, we somehow got it into the U-Haul with just a few small scuffs. I still don’t know how we managed it. Even so, I doubted the couch would ever make it up our new staircase. I remained convinced we were still in the market for a new sofa. Lance, on the other hand, kept his faith. “Ye of little faith,” he teased.
Part Two: Into the…garage.
We tried to maneuver the loveseat around a tricky corner and up the stairs with friends’ help, but it wouldn’t go, so we placed it in the garage for the time being. I suggested we could sell them on Craigslist and resumed my search for a West Elm couch. Lance, however, did not give up. The next day my grandpa — equally determined — came to help. Watching them wrestle the loveseat up the steep, narrow stairs was terrifying; more than one person imagined disaster. Against the odds, they succeeded. That left the larger couch still in the garage while we deliberated.
We celebrated getting the loveseat inside, and for the moment it sufficed. I offered congratulations and gentle condolences to Lance and thought the couch would remain in the garage until we decided the next step.
Part Three: A change of heart
A few weeks passed as we settled into the new house. When I raised the idea of buying something new, Lance surprised me with renewed determination. He insisted he could get the big couch into the living room. I gave him two weeks to figure it out or we’d post the set for sale.
Part Four: The final attempt
Lance assembled a crew of friends for one last attempt. Hours were spent at the bottom of the stairs trying to twist the red beast around the corner, and every angle failed. It seemed impossible. Then someone offered a new plan: what about bringing it in through the balcony? I was skeptical — the balcony was high and the sliding door wouldn’t seem wide enough — but the group rallied behind the idea.
They hoisted the couch up from below while we tried to grab it from the balcony. At first there weren’t enough hands above to pull it over, so the friends below promised to circle around and help hoist. For a tense moment we were dangling a couch with nothing beneath — a sight our new neighbors surely won’t forget. Just when it seemed about to slip, the additional helpers arrived and together we leveraged it over the balcony and onto the railing area. We paused for a triumphant photo.
The couch wouldn’t fit through the screen door, so we carefully removed the stationary portion of the doorframe. After some labor, it came apart, and with renewed effort the couch slid into place in the living room. Bella tested it immediately — cone of shame and all.
The effort paid off: the couches stayed. Lance was pleased, and honestly — after adding a rug and a few accessories — they fit the space better than I expected. I might still dream of a West Elm sectional someday, but for now these pieces work. They’ve become part of our home and are growing on me.
Soon I’ll share another frugal story: how we cut a queen-size box spring in half to get it up two flights of stairs into our bedroom.
