The Seal(y) of approval

After a lot of soul-searching and heeding the ever present aching of my back, I decided that maybe it wasn't a good idea to keep Great Auntie's antique bed any longer as my prime resting spot. As much as I cherish this bed, I would have to get a custom mattress made for it, since it would not really be possible to "squish" a standard 75" mattress into its really only 72" long frame. Only a few places remain that will build a custom mattress any more, and since I don't want a round or heart-shaped one, I am not willing to go hunt for them, then pay the shipping costs on top of everything else.

I shopped one more store, a locally owned one, and found what I wanted at a price I could afford. It seems that the mattress manufacturers change the coverings they offer on the outside of their products quite often, and the style conscious types must have the latest. I am not one of those. So I bought the "so last week" fabric, at a substantial savings, and got a much nicer mattress than I first thought I'd be able to get. Top it off with free delivery, and honey, you have yourself a sale!

Therefore, the domestic goddess got herself a queen-size bed. Harris Furniture delivered the mattress and foundation on Saturday morning, with a loaner frame until the bed itself arrives. The new bed is a nice imitation of my old bed, stylewise. It's oak, where the old bed is walnut, and of course, much lighter tone because it's new. There is a headboard and footboard, and it has a nice oval sort of shape and some little decorative carvings for accents. It will blend nicely with the real antiques, and I can buy sheets that fit! To say I am tickled is an understatement.

I knew that getting a new bed would be a trauma for the cats. They knew something was up Friday night when I was in there dusting and vacuuming everything within an inch of its life. (Look out! She's hoovering! Something is going to happen! Run! Hide!) When the two college age guys knocked on the door with the delivery, it was time for them to go into action. (Quick, under the bed!)

These guys were so nice. One of them commented about my "washing machine" on the front porch as they came in. While that sounds like something you would expect in Arkansas, famous for upholstered pieces on the veranda, it's not at all the avocado green appliance you are thinking about. It's the wringer frame that holds two tin washtubs, and has a built in rub board. It's at least a hundred years old, and I normally plant begonias in it in the spring. Last winter, some kittens took refuge in the tub, and began sleeping in it. They still do, so no flowers, just dirt. Anyway it's on my porch and it's sort of nifty.

I digress. That wasn't the only thing these young men hadn't seen before. When they dismantled the old bed, they hauled the mattress out first. I'm sure they had never seen a real cotton tick before. But the fun part was they had never been up close and personal to a real, honest-to-goodness bed spring. The kind you used to see in movie attic scenes of old houses, next to the dress form that no one really ever had in their attic (where DID that cliche come from?). I had to ask if either had ever seen one, and they said only in movies. Ha. I am ancient.

I digress once more. When the guys came in the house, the cats ran under the bed. When they began to dismantle the bed, the cats hauled ass to points unknown. I could not find either one of them, but I knew they didn't escape out the door, because I was guarding it. I didn't see Ringo for about 5 minutes after they left, when he came crawling out from under my library table. I didn't see hide nor hair of Toby.

Even rustling the new sheets didn't bring him out. This is a cat who is famous for playing "Lumpy Bed". Every morning when I climb out of bed, I turn around to make it up, and Toby is dead smack in the middle of it. I simply make it up anyway, letting him play his way out of the midst of the sheets. Of course this ritual is accompanied by "Where's the cat?" Pat, pat, pat around on the bed. I come back later to smooth the sheets. So where the hell was Toby?

I was putting the pillowslips on the new pillows when I looked up and he was doing the jungle cat slink into the bedroom. You know...like he was approaching a herd of gazelle on the Serengeti, low to the ground, move a couple steps forward, hide in the dense underbrush of the carpet. He had the most WTF expression. Wish I'd had a video camera. I'd have won on America's funniest video show. (Well, maybe not. It wouldn't have involved hitting a guy in the nuts, which seems to be a recurring theme there.)

Not long afterward, the domestic goddess and the two resident felines were most deliciously napping on the new bed. A nap that lasted five hours. I guess I was tired. Man, I love my new bed.