Furniture Consignment Gallery Blog

"Hiya, honey," my grandmother said in her accented English over the phone. "Your Uncle Paul was supposed to come f' dinna', but he just cancel. I got a big pot of sauce on the stove, with brigoles, meat-a-balls and macaroni. You hungry, honey?"

"Sure!" I beamed. Wow! Was I lucky or what! She was making all my favorite food - and plenty of it. Little did I know that I was the weak link in our family. Whenever I answered the phone on Sundays, she knew she had all five of us hooked for dinner. "You be here at five - the whole family," she said, and then hastily hung up before my mother could intervene.

     I was ecstatic, but my announcement didn't go over well with my parents. They understood immediately that their Sunday had been Shanghaied. My Irish mother had just finished peeling a bucket of potatoes, and her pot roast was just about to go into the oven. "Richard!" she yelled to my father, who was trying to sneak out to wash his car. "Call your mother back and tell her we can't come."

My father would make a couple of attempts to call, but by then her phone was off the hook - another one of my grandmother's clever tactics.

     Promptly at five o'clock, we would round the corner of Norwood's Elm Street. I was starving, of course. I'd spent the last thirty minutes vigorously pummeling my two younger brothers in the back seat while my parents periodically yelled at us to quiet down. It was an exhausting but essential duty. I had to work up an appetite for dinner.

     As soon as we pulled up in front of the modest blue-grey ranch house, I perked up, thinking of my grandmother's mouth-watering tomato sauce. "Hey," I said brightly to my parents. "Uncle Paul is here after all! His car is in the driveway."

    "That kid isn't exactly a genius," my father observed dryly, glancing at my mother. Grandma had snookered the whole damned family - again. When we poured through the front door and headed for the dining room, my Dad and his brother just looked at each other and shook their heads guiltily. There would be hell to pay later with the wives - but, heck, the food was on the table! Dig in!

     And what a feast it was. Her meatballs were amazing: moist and big as tennis balls. She'd start with stuffed mushrooms or stuffed clams, follow that with homemade macaroni and brigoles, and top it all off with a golden roasted chicken, a salad, and then a big platter of fruit and nuts. Dessert might be pizzelles, the delicate waffle cookies dusted with sugar. Or a strawberry shortcake. Or a chocolate cake. Or maybe all three.

     Some Sundays she hit the jackpot. She'd have twelve to fourteen people to feed. My grandmother never sat down once during the meal, of course. She just circled the table, platter in hand, heaping food onto your plate and reprimanding you for not eating enough. "Whatsa matter?" she'd say after your third helping. "You don't like-a? I cook it just for you!"

     We lost my grandmother in the summer of 2006. I inherited the battered old table that we gathered around for so many of those family dinners. The legs were scratched and nicked from a generation of grandchildren swinging their legs - and from a couple of misplaced kicks by my aunt to signal my uncle - enough already! Time to go!

      My grandmother's table was a dull mahogany round table made in the 1950s - not exactly my wife's style - so I sold it a couple of years later. I stood in the middle of the FCG parking lot and watched it go down the road strapped to the top of a family van. I was sadder than I ever thought I would be to see it go. What I would give to have one more meal at that table on Elm Street!

     You'll find a lot of tables perfect for Sunday dinner at Furniture Consignment Gallery. They might not have as much history as my grandmother's, but I know you'll make your own memories around them. And, if you ask really nicely, I might just give you the recipe for those meatballs. The recipe may be missing an ingredient or five, courtesy of Grandma who has made sure that nothing would ever be the same in her absence. Especially those meatballs and my Sundays.

After the last few days in the store, we've decided to build a confessional into our showroom. Here you can recite your Act of Contrition, and you'll be absolved of all of your furniture purchasing sins, mortal or venial.

     All week long, a long line of penitents funneled through our door and poured out their hearts to us. "What was I thinking?" cried one consignor, admitting she had blown her budget for a decade on a furniture shopping spree. "Never again," another winced, recalling how she bought an enormous mansion at the peak of the market and furnished it lavishly.

      We heard every variation of the seven deadly sins. One greedily wanted a house bigger than her sister's. Another lusted after a friend's inlaid mahogany desk until she found one even more exquisite - and pricier - in an antique shop.

Their stories were all slightly different, but they had one thing in common: they wanted absolution - and some money back, too.

     Haven't we all been there?

     I can recall attending a live auction several years ago. Consumed in the bidding process, I vaguely remember g-forces driving my paddle up in the air faster than I could think. The heat of the moment, the competition, the will to win! All three took command of my soul. And, suddenly, "Sold for $275! The hutch goes to the gentleman on the left." 

     When I was bidding, I was riding a motorcycle on a winding country road. When the auctioneer banged the gavel, I hit a brick wall.

     The large mahogany hutch looked like a bargain when it was $50. After other buyers got involved in the fray, its value seemed to soar. Once they announced the new proud owner was moi I started to sweat at my poor decision-making. I did some fast math: $275 plus the auctioneer's commission of 12%, plus sales tax 6.25%. I had to move it within the next forty-eight hours and worse yet, where am I going to store it until I figure out what I can do with it?

    I raised my hand. "Excuse me, sir... I'd like to apologize to the folks that I outbid. You see, I really don't need this hutch. It's not the money. What I was thinking? Can I give it back? This guy over here bid $250. Maybe you could sell it to him. I'll cover the extra $25."

     I was looking for absolution and my money back. The room went silent. The man I outbid shrunk down in his seat. Clearly, he had gotten caught up in bidding, too. Now, he just wanted me to go far, far away.

     Yes, I have been there. Haven't we all at one time or another? Life goes on. We make mistakes. Forgive yourself and move onto the next great thing in your life. And when it comes to fixing those mistakes, come see our new confessional at Furniture Consignment Gallery. We promise to listen - with sympathy - and help you get some money back, too.

In 1944, as war raged across Europe and the Pacific, Joline Anderson married Robert Wright in a borrowed gown with a bouquet of flowers nipped from her mother's backyard. For something old, the couple had an heirloom ring. Something new was a wedding gift from a friend and furniture maker: a Salem chest.

  For sixty years, that mahogany chest held the treasures of a long and happy marriage: baby booties, poodle skirts, cashmere cardigans, prayer books, postcards from the kids, photos of the grand-kids. It was one of the most special pieces in our showroom for the few days that we had it.

   Consigned by a family member who, sadly, didn't have room for it in his home, the chest seemed to whisper the secrets of lives well lived in homes well loved. There's magic in knowing the history of that chest.

     Indeed, stories are important. When I was in high school, I used to keep a journal. It was full of adolescence angst, alternately heartbreaking and hilarious when you read it twenty years later. I got a little lazy about writing when I went to college. Entries were terse and infrequent -I was majoring in English and channeling Hemingway - but there is one telling item written when I was a sophomore:

"I met a girl named Dianna today. She was pretty and nice." 

I may have spelled her name wrong, but I got the relevant facts right. She was pretty - and nice enough to marry me four years later.

    To some, it would seem silly to write down fleeting thoughts about our cars, our clothing, our furniture, our homes. But these are the details that illuminate our lives. Who doesn't remember their first car with all its loveable dents? Or that sofa that you managed to squeeze into your first apartment? Or the dining room table where you hosted your first Christmas dinner? All the nicks and scratches tell their own stories, often about the best days of our lives but, sometimes, about the worst days, too.

     We witness many a reflective moment with our consignors when they are turning over to us the furniture they've enjoyed for years. They'll tap a desk or a dresser gently with a far-away look in their eyes and relive a memory before entrusting it to our care.    

    So on the next rainy day, take a moment and jot down the history of some of your most prized possessions.  Even if it seems silly now, your story may have meaning for someone who may someday own that piece. Your words will enrich somebody's life - if only the consignment guy who opens a drawer and finds your note on a yellowed piece of paper.

He was straight from the big screen, I swear. 

He looked just like Doc Brown from the movie Back to the Future. Remember him? The zany professor obsessed with time travel? The guy in our showroom had the same frenetic energy, the enthusiasm, and, of course, the finger-in-the-light-socket hair.

     A retired teacher, the customer told me that he is living the dream with his wife. The two are sailing from Cape Cod to the Bahamas with lazy stops at any port that looks intriguing. What brought him to our store? He had furniture stored in seven states, he said, most of it inherited. Now, he wanted to consign it. He was having too much fun on the water to think about roosting on land again.

     This mad-scientist look-alike proceeded to pepper me with thoughtful questions about our business. The result was an impromptu Q&A.

Q. How does consignment differ from an estate sale?

A. An estate sale typically is a one, two or three-day event in which the contents of a house are sold. Sellers often hire a professional to appraise the contents and conduct the sale. A professional typically takes a percentage of the net proceeds as a fee, generally 35%.

  When you consign with Furniture Consignment Gallery, we remove the furniture from your home and sell it in our showroom. Your furniture is displayed artfully in our showroom with other quality items.

Q. Why would we choose consignment over an estate sale?

A. Some sellers like the idea of unloading their unwanted items quickly in a weekend estate sale. Others don't like the thought of letting the public or their nosy neighbors poke around inside their homes. Consignment means you don't have to sacrifice your privacy to sell your furniture.

Q. Have you ever discovered a 'lost treasure' that turned out to be worth millions?

A.  So you think you have a Rembrandt in the attic? Television shows such as "Storage Wars" and "Pawn Stars" are sparking fantasies like that among sellers, but that's just what they are - fantasies.

  Rarely does a seller pluck something from the cellar that turns out to be worth millions. Most people know the value of their possessions. They know the age and historical provenance of items that are valuable. Such items typically are sent to auction houses that specialize in valuable antiques.

Q. Do you travel to the countryside and scour old barns for heirlooms?

A. Honestly, we don't have the time to do a lot of archaeological work to stock our showrooms. We handle high-quality, name brand furniture that is generally less than twenty years old.  Sifting through an old barn for a jar that might bring a few bucks isn't really our business.

     After we wrapped up our chat, the sailor took a sweeping glance of our showroom as if he was scanning open water for whales or mermaids. For just a moment, he looked wistful. "This furniture is really beautiful," he said. "Sometimes, I miss having a home..."

     I suppose it is human nature to always yearn for what you don't have. I was ready to stowaway on his boat when he described the scarlet sun sinking into the horizon, its reflection radiating across the blue ocean.

      I may be living my dream here at Furniture Consignment Gallery, but I'd sure like to take to the sea someday like this old salt. Might even trade a dresser or two to make it happen.

     6:35 AM Today:  "As of last night at 7:00PM papers are signed, and more importantly money is finally down!! I would like to proceed with consigning the furniture -- if that is alright with you. Are you available on March 2nd?"  

     All week long we have been fielding calls from customers eager to schedule furniture pick-ups. The signs are there that the Spring real estate market is coming in like a Lion!  "As soon as we have the sales agreement in hand, you can come get the furniture" says one, happy to be setting off on a long-anticipated retirement adventure consignor. Another is joyfully moving into a new home. "We move on March 6th. Can you sell our old dining room set? It is too big for the new dining room. And I found a new set in your showroom that will fit the new house perfectly!"  

     After years of waiting out the recession, people seem to be on the move again. That is always an emotion-filled journey, one that we're happy to share with our customers. When we are helping customers who are moving, we witness the full range of emotions in those who are selling and buying homes. Sellers are sifting through memories of lives well lived and coming to terms with the decision to make a change. Buyers are eagerly looking forward to fulfilling their dreams of creating a new home.

    A big move creates anxieties, but it is typically mingled with excitement and anticipation. Decisions must be made. Some hesitate and fret over the details. Others leap from one decision to another with the speed and agility of a star hurdler.

     One of our customers is making her fifth move - in five years. Having seen her through all these transitions, we are beginning to feel a bit like family. We were at her home this week swapping out beds, cleaning out some high quality pieces from her basement and trying to get her squared away before her 2PM showing. She was calm -- I was stressed! "We've got to get these beds made!" I exclaimed. "Don't worry. They'll either like the home or they won't", the wily moving veteran said with cool composure.  

     In the next town over, we recently sold a dining room set for a customer who was moving out of a lovely colonial in the suburbs. We were back at the same house the following week - delivering a different dining room set to the new homeowner.

     Strange things happen during a move. Emotions run high. Some folks make good decorating decisions under stress. Others don't. Furniture that fit perfectly in that big family colonial may not work in the chic new retirement condo. The formal dining room set that looked so elegant in Newton may not work in your casual house on the Cape. Some people are able to anticipate that certain pieces won't work in the new home before the big move. Others incur the expense of moving the items, try to cram furniture built for a large home  into a small home and then make the decision to consign the items. 

     We wouldn't think of offering advice about moving - every family handles that challenge differently - but we do have one suggestion: Keep Furniture Consignment Gallery on speed dial.

     You never know when you might need us. And we promise we'll do our best to help you.  

     7:03 AM Today: "Let's do Thursday, March 1. I'll make it work." says yet another client on the move. 

     The world is full of strange and interesting characters. Anyone who works in a retail store will vouch for the truth of that statement.

     Last week, our front door squeaked open and in slipped a man who acted like he'd just gotten a top-secret assignment from Mission: Impossible. He darted from one corner to another in the showroom. Eyes narrowed, he cased the place with the caution of a minesweeper. His salesman avoidance radar was on high alert.

     But I felt up to the challenge. I strolled over as he was about to slip out the door. "Sir," I asked. "What's on your hit list today? Are you on the prowl for anything in particular?"

     But this guy was one cool customer. "A bed," he said with a deadpan expression. "I'm just looking for a bed."  

     So here's the thing from my perspective: We have over fifty beds between our two stores in Hanover and Newton. If this man needs a bed, we should be able to locate him a bed.

     After asking a series of questions about what kind of bed he might be looking for and with not much response other than "just a bed", we took a jaunt through our inventory. How about a cherry sleigh bed , the manly choice? No. How about an exquisite burled walnut antique made in Italy, a real showstopper? No. A classic cherry four-poster bed by Stickley, a keeper for generations to enjoy? No. A mahogany bed with pineapple posts, classic Americana? No. A Thomasville 4 Poster, fit for a king? No. A gleaming brass bed for a touch of yesteryear?

      By now, I was in full stride. I enjoyed reeling off the choices in our huge inventory of beds: twin, full, queen, king, cherry, mahogany... We are proud of the treasures in our stores. They've been selected from some of the finest homes in the New England area and we have some great choices right now. Yet this customer just frowned, shaking his head at my every suggestion.

     Realizing my time was coming to a close, I finally conceded defeat after describing just about every bed in both stores.

      "Sir," I said with regret. "I'm not sure that we have just a bed." 

Every now and again something remarkable happens. That special piece that you have been searching for, that you never thought you would find, hits the showroom floor at FCG. When it does, we have some advice for you. Call us immediately to secure the purchase or ask us to place the item on "HOLD" for you! There are some rules around this, but first let me tell you what happened to us last weekend.  

     A woman left our store extremely unhappy after an item she wanted was sold to another customer. She drove home and posted the following angry message on our store's Facebook page:

"I drove 50 miles (to buy a specific item, only to find that) another salesperson sold the item right out from under me. My saleslady never stuck up for me, supported me, or even apologized to me. I will never do business with Furniture Consignment Gallery as that was not only my first experience but also my last!"

     After investigating the situation, I realized the difficulty of the incident - and we immediately responded to her criticism and offered an apology on Facebook. Here, in part, is what we said:

"Wow - we messed this one up for sure. We don't blame you for being upset... we tripped over ourselves a bit here in trying to accommodate two different buyers. We apologize."

     This all unfolded in our Hanover showroom last Saturday when we were crowded with shoppers. "Excuse me," a customer called. "Do you know how much this ottoman is?" After a quick examination we couldn't locate our glossy blue sale tag anywhere. All of our furniture is supposed to be tagged, so a missing tag can mean a few things: 

• The item might have been sold, but a sales person may not have had a chance to place a "SOLD" sign on it.

• Another shopper may have just pulled off the tag to take it to the check-out counter to buy the item.
  

• Ron, our Sales Manager, swears there is a ghost in the store that plays tricks on us and he believes it messes with the tags; so it could be that too!

     With no clues to the whereabouts of the missing tag, we printed a new one and sold the ottoman. We completely, overlooked the other customer who was clenching the original tag in her hand. Like I said, we messed this one up.

     This is how things sometimes get complicated at the store. Unlike other furniture stores, we don't have ten more in the backroom. And, unlike an auction house, the item doesn't go to the highest bidder. So if you find an item that you have spent your whole life searching for, then it is appropriate to have some urgency! In this case the item in question was a random ottoman that we never thought would cause such a fuss. We underestimated what we know so well to be true and that is that there are a lot of smart shoppers looking for unique pieces. You never know who else is looking at the same item as you; no matter how obscure the piece.

     At Furniture Consignment Gallery we try to keep the rules of engagement as open and unimpeded as possible. In a n effort to keep the process fair and reasonable, we do allow our buyers to place items on HOLD for 24 hours in certain situations to mull a purchase. If someone else wants to buy that piece within that 24-hour period, we'll call the individual who put it on HOLD and ask him or her to make a decision about buying it at that time. That's only fair. We want to provide a stress-free environment for buyers, but we also have a responsibility to consignors who have entrusted us with their furniture. Understandably, they want their items sold as quickly as possible.

There are a few more rules.

• Items are not eligible for a HOLD on the day of a markdown.

• On weekends, we don't put items on HOLD. That's our prime selling time. Scores of buyers will drive to our store to see the furniture. To be fair to them, all the furniture on the showroom floor should to be available for purchase. That said, if you're driving from a faraway place to view an item, we can HOLD it until you arrive. Like I said, we try to be user friendly.
  

• A HOLD lasts only for 24 hours.

• And we are very reluctant to allow a customer to put a HOLD on the same item more than once.

     Sometimes, we have to make difficult decisions when another buyer wants to buy it NOW. We will try to make every reasonable effort to track you down to prompt you for a decision. If we can't, we have no choice but to sell the item. We owe that to our consignors.

     As for the woman who left our store so angry last Saturday, I hope she has seen our apology on Facebook. Pushing our rules of engagement aside, this one was our mistake. I do hope that someday she will give us another chance.

 “Oh, for crying out loud!”  I hung up one phone line and punched another that had been ringing and ringing and ringing. At Furniture Consignment Gallery, our phones start jingling incessantly the moment we open our doors on January 2. Everyone, it seems, suddenly wants to consign a piece of furniture.

And not just any piece of furniture. At this time of year, they are determined – relentless, even – to unload an armoire. Among the presents unwrapped in many homes during the holiday season was a sleek new flat-screen television. So, goodbye, old clunker! And goodbye to the armoire the wife insisted on buying to hide the clunker and all its wires!

No one seems to have a problem hauling that old tv to the dump. But the armoire … heck, lots of folks think that’s got to be worth something on the used-furniture market. That’s when they call me. Here are some of my favorite pitches: 

•  “Jay, I’ve got something you are going to love! See, I’ve got this beautiful solid oak – and I mean SOLID – television cabinet.”

•  “This armoire isn’t just for a television. You could put some shelving in it. That should be pretty easy to do, don’t you think? A couple of boards, a hammer, some nails? Then you could sell it as a closet, right?”

•  “If you can just get out of my home, you can have it. You can sell it and keep the money. Just come and get it – anytime! I’ll tell you where I hide the keys to the house.”

• "My armoire can handle a nice flatscreen. In fact, I just measured the interior and it will actually hold a 27 incher."

Don’t get me wrong. We’re happy that you’ve gotten a new flat screen television, but we need to get one thing straight. We aren’t going to take your armoire on consignment. An armoire is the eight-track tape of the furniture business. (Even Craigslist – furniture mart of the damned – is clogged with them.)

There was a time, a few years ago, when we might have taken an armoire on consignment. They were slow to sell, but a buyer would wander in eventually. Our very first blog post was titled "Can You Sell My Entertainment Armoire" And that was two years ago! The last one we had on the showroom floor was a stunning Stickley white oak armoire for $499. It gathered dust for months. You might remember it as it made our Deal of the Week video production back in May 2011.

Converting an armoire made for a television into a cabinet for clothing is not a task for amateurs. You’d have to hire a carpenter experienced in making quality furniture to get that job done. And don’t count on selling it, afterward. Most folks want their clothing hanging in a closet – not a bulky, space-eating armoire.  

So please don’t be angry with me when I decline your armoire. They are big, they are heavy and they just don’t sell anymore! I hereby declare the age of the armoire is officially over.

Last night was an exciting night for Furniture Consignment Gallery! The Boston Channel ran a featured special on Chronicle, one of New England’s most popular local television programs where they cover the “Main Streets and Back Roads” of New England on a weekly basis. Last night in the heart of January, when we are all hovering around a warm fire, they featured ideas on how to better your home with their “Home Improvement” edition. 

It was interesting from our perspective to view the final product as roughly three hours of filming was condensed to a about a five minute production spoof. Keeping in mind that the show is geared to entertain the Chronicle audience and that it is not a paid for program that is an advertisement, there is more that we want you to know! So if last night’s program made a welcoming introduction to our business, here are some things that you will really like.

For starters the show focused solely on our Route 9 Chestnut Hill location which is situated about 7 miles west of Boston. However, If you liked the types of items that you viewed on the program, we want you to know that we have many similar types of items in Hanover, MA where we have five MORE floors of New England's finest pre-owned home furnishings and accessories. Our Hanvoer store is conventiently located on route 53.

In addition, a key part of our business that has made shopping with Furniture Consignment Gallery so popular is our website www.furnitureconsignment.com where customers can view all of our constantly changing inventory for both our Hanover and Chestnut Hill locations.

We want you to know that there are many great values in our showroom as we indicated in the feature and they can be viewed and monitored in the Final Markdown section of our website. In fact, we just introduced a new website feature in our on-line inventory where customers can elect to track an item on our website and will receive e-mail notifications when an item of interest drops in price.

A big part of Home Improvement is replacing items that no longer fit your lifestyle or the future vision of your home and for those items that may be finding their way to the exit door, Furniture Consignment Gallery is an excellent place to sell items that are no longer needed. We accept gently used, high end, name brand furniture as Diana mentioned in the feature. Our consignors make 55% of the selling price in accordance with our terms and conditions.

The best part about our consignment services is that we offer a convenient and economical pick-up service that allows you to remove beautiful items from your home that are not part of your plan. Our delivery truck runs weekly and if you have items you want to sell, fill out this form and we will get you started. This is a wonderful service for people who are in the midst of a transition period such as moving, downsizing or are experiencing a myriad of other life changing situations.

Inventory moves at a swift pace at Furniture Consignment Gallery. Items do not stick around for long and so if you see something that is right for your home, we advise our customers not to hesitate. Many buyers learn this the hard way. If another customer beats you to the check out counter, it isn’t the end of the world! Another similar item will arrive soon as new items are accepted into our showrooms daily. A convenient way to follow our inventory on a weekly basis is to check the New Arrivals seciton of our website for each store and to sign-up to recieve our weekly newsletter. Our newsletter keeps you in touch with our business and notifies you of all of the newly acquired inventory each week by e-mail.

We are grateful that Chronicle featured Furniture Consignment Gallery in the Home Improvement Edition. There are thousands of other business they could have chosen to interview for the piece in the Boston area. We are glad they picked FCG.

See the segment here at Bostonchannel.com

We're about 3:00 mins into this video!

http://www.thebostonchannel.com/video/30191929/detail.html

Sitting at the breakfast table slurping my last spoonful of Honey Bunches of Oats, I felt a breeze behind me, then heard the screech of wheels rounding the corner. Based on the fraction of a second between the breeze and the screech, whatever it was that just blasted through the kitchen was moving fast. I whipped my head around to see my nine-year-old son, Collin, racing down the hallway on his roller blades. "Whoa, whoa, no, no, NO!" I hollered after him. "Not in the house!"  

Collin spent a lot of time over school vacation week this holiday with a friend who lives around the corner. Their home is different from ours. They're a hockey family, and we're not talking just tickets to the Bruins. Their house is a rink - with furniture. The kids' rollerblades have worn a groove into the hardwood floors. Doors and walls have weathered more than a few collisions. There might even be some blood. To their credit, our neighbors have raised a brood of great hockey players, but most families choose to put a limit on the amount of fun allowed in the home.

Raising kids to enjoy - but also to respect -- your home and its furnishings is a challenge. We've seen the gamut in our clients' homes. Some couples spend thousands on a mahogany dining room set, then let their children race toy cars on its gleaming finish. Conversely, one newlywed couple is wrestling with the decision of how to furnish the living room for this, their second marriage. He doesn't have children; she has three. He wants formal and fancy; she knows the carnage kids can inflict on furniture. If not managed with care, that situation has disaster written all over it.

So where is the happy medium? How can you satisfy an adult's need for beauty with a kid's desire for fun? It is not easy, but here are some ideas that may help you figure out a solution:

• Give the kids a few areas in the house where they can be kids. We, as parents, should encourage playtime. Even some roughhousing is healthy. Big or small, some part of your home should be dedicated to fun. And when things get a bit out of hand, as my Mother used to holler to us: "Take it out to the front yard!"

• Create a warm, cozy place in your home where you can come together as a family. A place where everybody is comfortable.  A place where you won't trip over toys. A place where kids can snuggle up with Mom and Dad.

• And, yes, your home should have some special items that are meaningful to your family. Maybe they are costly new pieces that create a certain look. Maybe they are treasured heirlooms passed down from parents or grandparents. One of the responsibilities of parenting is teaching kids to treat special possessions - their own and others' - with respect. My Dad would drive me crazy when he would knock my feet off the coffee table. Somehow he could see the fresh scratch on the wall before entering the home from work. We put our dents in our home, but my brothers and I also learned the valuable lesson of respecting the family's hard earned assets.

And here's one last tip. New furniture can be very costly. But there's an alternative for those who value quality furniture -- while also understanding that indoor rollerblading on rare occasions (and snow days) might be necessary. Shop smart. Shop consignment. If you don't mind a tiny scratch or two, you'll find a great selection of quality pieces at Furniture Consignment Gallery in Hanover and now in Chestnut Hill. They didn't have consignment stores like ours when I was growing up. If there had been, I'm sure my family would have been regular visitors.