Bedroom Disappointment

 Bedroom disappointment. No, not that. It's not what you're thinking, this is not that kind of a blog.

The house construction is coming along, walls are up, sheetrock installed and painted in a variety of colors to keep things interesting, even in the bedroom. But what is a bedroom without a bed? Just a room, I guess is the answer.

And that is just about all I got when it comes to my master bedroom, a room without a bed. Sue was scheduled to come up to see me and the place at the end of July, 2023. Having not seen my wife for several months, was eager to have a brand new bed in our master suite to entertain her. Nothing is easy on the Pilchuck when it comes to putting this house together.

I had searched online for many weeks looking for a bed the fits my fancy. I wanted a natural wood headboard, preferably a foot board, I was looking for an arched headboard to complement the lofted ceiling in the master BR and the wife wanted a headboard that one could sit up in bed and lean one's back against it. More difficult to find all of those criteria than I first thought.

I found what I thought would be a nice fit and ordered it. It was scheduled to arrive a few days after Sue arrived. That's fine, we can build our bed together and break it in together, how sweet. An email arrives letting me know that the delivery will be delayed. How disappointing. But we do have other beds in the two guest rooms, up and down stairs, ready to go. 

Of course, I need a queen mattress to go onto my delayed bedframe. Very difficult to know what you are going to get when ordering a mattress online; some reviews are superb, others complain of shoddy workmanship and spinal destruction. What to believe? I pay my money and take my chances on a hybrid mattress.

The mattress is delivered in a manageable box and I haul it single-handedly into the master suite sans bedframe. It's a start. I unbox and unbind the compressed-for-delivery mattress and watch it grow into a queen before my very eyes. Rather amazing.

I let the mattress sit on the floor, while I continue to use the bed in the adjoining guest room.

My wife and my daughter and her boyfriend, Sean, come for a visit and leave before my long delayed bedframe shows up.

I get an email from the furniture company with some bureaucratic-speak, saying that my shipment has been lost. Nothing comes easy for this house. My guests are gone and I'm notified that my bed and headboard are on their way. My heart sinks when the boxes arrives; I was told to expect three boxes, I get two.

I immediately realize how this bed got lost - it was buried under a shipment of anvils. The boxes were gouged and beat to heck. I tell the delivery driver, "Whoa, don't leave until I inspect what you just dropped off, because I have a bad feeling about this."

                       

Bad feeling confirmed. I refused to accept delivery.
        

The furniture company saw the photos of the damaged merchandise which I had texted to them and said they would send me another bed. What about the missing third box? I asked. 

"Oh, I'm sure you have everything there in two boxes." I check. No, I don't have any cross rails to assemble the bed, even if it wasn't damaged. 

I call back, "I'm missing pieces."

"No problem. Those kind of items are quickly replaced. We'll have them out to you in 48 hours."

A new bed comes in the next couple of weeks, but still no cross rails for assembly. Those 'quick to ship' pieces take about three weeks to get here.

Two months after I ordered the bed so I could entertain soon to arrive guests, I finally have a bed and mattress for the master bedroom. But nobody to share it with. And so it has been my solo lonely bed ever since for over half a year and counting.

Sweet dreams!

At last. A bed in the bedroom.

Silverbeard and the Three Bears

Mid-September it is, up here in Washington on The Pilchuck. 

The apples in my orchard have set, grown plump with juice in their flesh and have begun to drop not far from these old legacy trees planted by Frank Cook, my father-in-law.

The days are long, but grow shorter. The land seems ripe with pleasant bounty. There is a sense of fullness around the place.

It is a ripe time for jolly fables and fairy tales. 

One is not to believe the literal truth of such tales, but perhaps there is a lesson to be had in the telling and in the hearing. I have a tale:

Silverbeard and the Three Bears

I tell it and most listeners know enough to hear me out and then reply; Nice story bro - but it's a natural fact that there are no bears in Arlington nor Stanwood. Everybody knows that.

If only The Brothers Grimm or Aesop himself had a phone in their tunic with video capabilities*, they would not be celebrated for fairy tales and fables, but as troubadours of true and natural facts.

Once upon a time in the great Pacific Northwest woods stood a house of stone and wood. A man with a long silver beard lived in the house alone. 

Silverbeard meets Mama Bear & the Two cubs

One day (specifically, September 14, 2023) a mama bear and two cubs galloped across Silverbeard's field and knocked on the door of his humble cottage deep in the woods.

When he opened the door, Mama Bear growled at Silverbeard, "We are three ferocious and hungry bears and we demand to come in and eat your porridge and cinnamon oatmeal!"  

Silverbeard replied, "Oatmeal? Oatmeal with cinnamon? Why, Mrs. Suneson ate the last bowl on Sunday. There is no porridge for growly, ferocious and hungry bears here. Go away."

Mama Bear snarled, "We are omnivores, we will eat anything, including you." 

Silverbeard said, "Ah yes, omnivores, you should have mentioned that at the beginning. Y'all come inside and I will fix y'all up some Brussel sprout and sourcrout and prune tacos."

The two cubs standing behind Mama Bear heard my offer and went into conniption fits. "Eeew! Yuck and Bleck! they shouted. We won't eat tacos with sourcrout and prunes even if you put us in time out and make us count to a gazillion and eleven. Nope." 

Placing my hands on my hips and catching the exasperation in Mama Bear's eyes, I whispered, "Hey Mama, it looks like this is already a long day scavenging the woods with the finicky youngin's in tow. Must be tough. How about you take your cubbies over yonder and send one of 'em up that apple tree and him knock down the fruit up in those branches and get some nice apples for you and the whole family?"

"Apples right off the tree? Orchard fresh? You don't say."

"I do say. Help yourself." Then Silverbeard added, "I think you'll find them apples 'just right'."

So, if the question ever comes up, who's been eating my apples?

Silverbeard and The Three Bears will reply, "I have! And they are not too tart and they are not too hard, they are just right!"

Silverbeard shared his apple orchard bounty with the deer and the antelope and The Three Bears and the skies were not cloudy all day. And they all live happily ever after.

*Video evidence is provided as proof of this fabulous tale from the little cottage deep in the woods.