Bed is go!

My flat has an internal stairwell that turns a tight corner. There’s also a fire escape, but the door is very narrow. People don’t like bringing things up here. It’s ridiculous when I think quite how many large boxes I’ve hauled up here over the years.

The first fridge was wrestled in by two lads who told me with haunted eyes “never change your fridge”. They were right to warn me. Brian swapped it out one summer when I was at Wilderness, and his friend dropped it on his foot in the process. There’s still blood on the carpet. Last Christmas I replaced my oven and Team Know-how found a way to avoid taking the old one away. My nephew and I got it out and it was extremely unpleasant. For three months afterwards I was woken every morning with excruciating pain after doing something nasty to my shoulder. I still curse those workshy lads with all the tools and knowhow and equal amounts of laziness. They had a trolley thing for stairs. But they found prehistoric mouse droppings which meant they wouldn’t take it. “Health and safety”.

Anyway, I’m thinking about it because Max and I got a double bed into the spare room this morning. The base was touch and go. We tried the stairwell and it jammed halfway up. We were going to take it apart like I did last month in another flat with a sofa and a handsaw. Thankfully we just thought it might be worth trying to get it through the fire escape first. That involved another bunch of stairs. And by the skin of our teeth, we did it. It’s in. A bit torn. But in.

There’s a romance to it. It was my grandmother’s bed in Jersey. She used to tell me stories in it. Since she died, the replacement cost has been paid over and over and over again to storage companies, I spent my entire fee for a Holiday Inn commercial shipping it over from Jersey – (along with everything else) – and today, finally, it’s in. I didn’t want to just ditch the thing or put it on eBay for £150. So Max and I wrestled it into the flat at last, and I’ll dream in it before long.

I’m not fit though. I’m as unfit as I can remember being. I get out of breath much quicker than I ought to. Now, sneezing hurts my back too from the carrying. Hopefully it’s short term. But … I built the bed so if my back goes I’ll have a comfy place to lie. I haven’t put a mattress onto it yet as I’m giving my back a rest. But it’s a nice piece of furniture. It fits together logically and it feels sturdy. I think there’ll be some good dreams in there before long once there’s a mattress on it. So long as that ormolu doesn’t fall off and conk me on the head.

Glacier slow, but piece by piece. There’s always so much that needs to be done. And I’ve got a cat coming to stay for a while starting next week. Not a furniture scratchy cat though I think. A loungy little prince house cat. I’m thrilled. I’ve missed Pickle something chronic, and this poor little pudding is in a cattery while his companion is stuck in Australia. Best get a working hoover.

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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