The first week of February has passed and while tradition tells us that it’s the bleak mid-winter and bitter winds make moan, or some such thing, you couldn’t tell it on this 70 degree day as Daffodils unfurl, Tulips are popping up, there are buds on the wild Plums and the intoxicating scent of Daphne fills the brick patio with alluring suggestions of limerence.
A sweet karma from an even sweeter Angel has delivered to our humble little rural cottage a bed. It is hard to restrain a joy about this or affect a calm adult appreciation on something that to the usual passer-by is ‘just’ a bed. Some beds are not just beds, they are evil ( assuming inanimate things possess malignant intent) and are dedicated to the torture of even the gentlest of sleepers and their little dogs. Such was Lucy (short for Lucifer), who started out as a temporary solution to an otherwise no-bed dilemma, brought on by an abandonment of the old San Francisco Makrosky beds in Vermont, when circumstances made us leave our idyll in the beloved farmhouse and return home to the Bay area.
The omens were not good. We clipped one of the driveway stanchions and nearly tipped over our rickety U-haul truck, which to bring us full circle was for nearly two-thousand miles as miserably uncomfortable and accommodating as has been Lucy these past six or seven years. I won’t even much belabor Lucy’s charms composed of milk crates, plywood and a mattress whose value we saved for nearly a year to afford. Being a rural town and all, we did consider straw pallets like long ago Medieval days, but then the thought of insects and Lysol drenching like in the movies brought us to our senses. By ‘our’ I now mean to include Andie in all humanoid intentions and decisions.
A huge truck the size of the cottage pulled up the other day and two burly Latino men, who Andie immediately adored, pulled clanking chains and massive doors to withdraw a brand new box springs and mattress from the cavernous behemoth truck to deposit said delights in the now empty of Lucy bedroom:
There was a hitch, the box frame was missing and the end result was a call into ………..? It sounded like Bombay, but I could be wrong. I was put on the phone to someone named Teddy. Teddy confirmed that yes, the invoice said the bed-frame was included and “So sorry, V will call you most certainly by the end of the day or within the next 24 hours except on Sunday”. All my inquiries about it resulted in Teddy repeating that mantra. When I asked if I should then accept the delivery or not, Teddy said he was not allowed to give such advice, but if I waited for a call in the next 24 hours I would know. So, rather than keep the burly Latino men waiting outside for the next 24 hours, excepting Sunday, I told them to pack it up and wait until the box-frame arrived and then deliver the whole load later. Then the burly Latino men, who were having fun playing with Andie, declared that they were not allowed to reload the truck once it had been unloaded.
The burly Latino men left after nearly taking out the hedge row of the neighbors across the street. The box-spring and mattress were still covered in crinkly heavy plastic in case any future changes in the next 24 hours, excepting Sunday should occur. Andie was not pleased about the plastic and refused to hop up, so the plastic came off. But before I chanced that I called customer service and talked to Jane. I said “the delivery came, but was missing a piece and can I…………. ‘”V will call you in the next 24 hours, except on Sunday, once V have determined what has happened.” “I have the invoice number right here.” “Ok” “Yes that checks out and V will call you in the next 24 hours, except on Sunday.” “Thank you for calling….” “Wait, wait. Jane. I have one more question: (audible sigh from Bombay). “Yes?” The mattress is too soft and I would like to exchange it for a firm one.”Sofuff” “What is sofuff?” “You know, soft…S.O.F.T.” “I don’t know Sofuff, please hold I will talk to my supervisor.” “OK, thanks for holding, yes you can exchange the sofuff mattress for another one.” “Vell, you must call the mattress department in your local store area and get a new item number and then call back.” Thank you for shopping at Lucy’s Revenge, goodbye. “
And so it went, I called the local store near closing time and got a poor tired woman, who was so totally not ready for me and she did her best to look up every mattress and its description that the store had ever offered. We came upon the perfect one. I finally called customer service again and talked to Chittra, who was familiar with the word ‘soft’. She handled the details and the said: “We will call you in the next 24 hours, except on Sunday.”
The first night’s sleep was deep and relaxing. Andie approved and spent her night in the remade fleece nest next to me. All was well until I had to get up in one of my usual old man forays into you know where. Andie has two forays herself at different hours and those require going outside, and thus I have seen some beautiful dense foggy nights or crystal clear starry or moon-struck nights. What I didn’t count on was that the height of the bed with out the frame is about 2 1/2 feet and so I can’t get up out of the bed easily and my arm sinks down into the soft mattress and provides no support. The lack of strength in my upper and lower body now prevented me from leaving the bed with even a soupcon of dignity, whereas Andie just flies up and off with ease. I have devised a method of roll and drop, landing on some prearranged pillows so I don’t break my hip and then grab hold of the bed desk to pull myself up on my feet. I figure after about six drop and rolls per night by the next 24 hours except for Sunday I will be quite fit to face the final and welcome solution about THE BED. To Be Continued………………..