Gratitude Sunday: The Queen’s New Bed: Part Deux

Gratitude * Sunday

Quote of the Week – “I once had a rose named after me and I was very flattered. But I was not pleased to read the description in the catalogue: no good in a bed, but fine up against a wall.”
Eleanor Roosevelt

Sunday Haiku
Summer full and bright,
day’s light and embracing night,
make my veggies ripe!

Sunday Musings
Sassy queen’s new-to-me bed is installed. Queen has been ensconced in said bed for a week. Queen would like to wake up one day without pain. That might be asking too much from the universe. Hope springs eternal.

Having a new bed at least distracts me from the current state of political affairs, which I admit I become so easily distracted by. Guilty pleasure, perhaps, watching crime on the news every night by the highest government offices in the United States of America. Not that I can do much about politics other than pestering my legislators to do the work they are paid to do, and voting. And encouraging others to vote.

Hubster and son ran out of steam after all the heavy moving and son called a friend to help move the final piece. I’m grateful for son’s friends, who still have the youth and muscle to help.

Vacuuming went better than expected. Hubster allowed me to use the vacuum all by myself like a big girl after cleaning the vac part he hates to clean. Even after finding every pushpin (notorious vacuum killers) I’ve ever dropped in this house, all of which rolled their way into the edges between the carpet and the wall in my room, I did not manage to kill the vacuum this time. Not as much dust as I suspected, but I still could have knitted a scarf with the abundant dust bunnies the vac sucked up. Not proud. Not bragging.

I discovered the mattress and bedding smells like the oil based fragrances sis uses in her home. The bedding I didn’t think about until the last minute (organized brain, right?) and finally tossed them into the washer at midnight. Between mattress pad and sheets it meant two loads, and I was making the bed at 3:00 AM. My bad. Forgot about my sensitivity to odors and fragrances, forgot about employing my brain. The Queen may be picky and sensitive, but she is nonetheless poor, and grateful for gifts when she has not the funds to purchase and choose her own.

Washing the bedding is the easy part. I tackled the mattress with baking soda to see if that will leech the odors out. It might take more than one baking soda application, and I was pleased at how well the upholstery attachment on my vac worked to remove it. I’d love to take it outside and let it sit in the sun for several hours, but I don’t have a safe space to do so. The neighbor cats consider my yard to be theirs and while they do keep it mouse free, I fret they would mark the mattress with their urine the same way they’ve done with every tent I’ve tried to use in my yard. If the fragrance doesn’t come out with other methods I will figure out a way to let it air in the sun. I need communication, planning, and help from the son to do so.

My old twin sized bed was more than 22 years old. I forget it has been that long because the mattress looks like new. I kept it on a regular schedule of flipping and turning every season, but when a queen-sized body is flipping and turning on it every night, the spring coils are bound the break down and the padding settles. The new mattress is only lightly used enough so the settling hasn’t happened yet.

The new bed is, of course, bigger than my old bed. That was the point. It means, however, the relationship of the bed and my body to the window, the door, and the light are different. I am disoriented. Pretty easy to achieve these days, as nothing seems quite normal here in semi-retirement, all is askew including my room and my bed and my window and my door, like a Picasso painting. It’s a matter of time; studies show getting used to a new routine takes an average of 30 days.

So much to be grateful for when old things move along and new things come to you. Change is the only constant, and it flows like water, one little eddy, one little wave at a time, sometimes flooding, sometimes trickling, sometimes tsunami.

Now the bed is in place, I can move other pieces of abundance around so I can move more freely in the room as I decide about some discards. I’ve found all kinds of lovely corners that needed cleaning. I’m grateful the bed is on wheels as, for now, I have to push it up against a wall and will have to pull it out to change the sheets every week. I am trying to figure out how to make changes so I can have free access to both sides of the bed. The Game of Fourteen is still afoot.

In the meantime, when I roll over in bed there is still more bed. When I flop an arm out, or stretch a leg, there is still bed there. No more tempting under-bed nightmare monsters to chomp on my exposed tootsies or fingers dangled over the edge of the bed. Those childish fears don’t always die; sometimes they live on forever in the minds of adults whose brains never stop.

When I’m too hot I can roll over to the cool zone, and when I’m too hot again, there’s yet another cool zone. When I throw a blanket or sheet off, it’s still on the bed instead of landing on the floor or wedging between the bed and the wall.

With the bed frame on wheels, until I figure out how to make space on both sides, at least I can pull it out and vacuum around it in the future which means fewer dust bunnies and a cleaner room. I have until winter to find a solution to the room on both sides issue as Christmas is a great excuse for a purchase if I find the right headboard. Also a great excuse to research and purchase some luxury sheets; I’ve always found having two sets of sheets for the bed a luxury in itself. Martha Stewart likes to change her sheets (“have her sheets changed” is how she put it, so I doubt she does it herself) every day, so maybe I’ll up my game and go for twice a week on the clean sheets. Clean sheets do feel so good. Another change in the constant flow of the Queen’s river journey.

This summer’s project plods along through the joy of five minute work windows. It’s a good thing.

Color Watch – colorful attractions in my neighborhoods this week – Brown squirrels who live in the trees in my back yard. They keep about three feet away from the fence dandelion free, that’s the green leaf he’s eating. They dig up the roots too. Love these feathery white poker plants. Purple starbursts of deadly nightshade. Blackberries creamy white flower so beautiful, but they have to stop eating my house. The bright pinks and blues of the versatile hydrangea.

Current View – {These are only my opinions about movies and books, but don’t let me stop you from trying these reviewed items yourself; your opinion may differ.} With the distraction of the new bed and all the cleaning that’s gone along with it I haven’t had much brain for viewing so I’ve been mindlessly reviewing the Showtime series, Shameless (2011 – present, rated TV – MA) which has eight crazy seasons, also prepping for when season nine is available on Netflix, season ten just got approved so more waiting to come. I like the half hour or one hour format of TV series for viewing choice when my mind is elsewhere as it seems easier to stop in the middle or view one episode or even backtrack if needed, than to sit down to a full length feature. * Paris Is Burning (1990, rated R), recently selected by the Library of Congress for the National Film Institute as a film of “historical, cultural, or aesthetic significance,” this movie is a documentary about the ball culture in New York City and the gay, trans, African-American, and Latin communities’ involvement. Balls are dress-up events, and participants are given awards similar to Oscar awards. The balls are all named; the movie takes its name from one of the balls in 1986 from which the majority of the film was made. Fascinating to see how much is out there I haven’t seen from my tiny little poor white woman view. Fascinating how fascinating it all is. People in all their beautiful colors and ways. I like to play dress-up sometimes.

Currently ReadingThe Last Time I Lied (2019, mystery fiction) by Riley Sager (pseudonym, American author). A predictable mystery with a twist or two. Summer reading wise? A mystery about a summer camp, an insane asylum, missing girls, and a whole cast of possible suspects. Good summer reading. * Eloquent Rage: A Black Feminist Discovers Her Superpower (2017, African-American feminism) by Brittney Cooper (American author, associate professor in the Department of Women’s and Gender Studies at Rutgers University). Anger, eloquent or otherwise, is off-putting. I get that. I’m angry. It shows. People don’t like it. If you are not a person of color, Ms Cooper’s words might be frightening if you take them in an adversarial way. They are still a bit scary when you read them in effort to educate yourself. Culturally our experiences are so vastly different it might be impossible to understand what they went through and vice versa. Her eloquence is important because of that difference, no matter the tone. Communication is key; we must say the words, open the dialogue, and go forward whatever the topic, even painful ones like generational race biases. Every story helps us understand each other.

This week I have been grateful for:

  • The son having friends who will come help move furniture.
  • A surprise overnight guest, which made the hubster clean off his couch so his step-daughter would have a place to sleep. Lovely to see her.
  • The son resolving some insurance issues that were hanging over his head.
  • My still functioning clothes washer and dryer, hot water and unscented laundry detergents.
  • My automatic ice maker for the warmer summer days and being able to turn it off when the bin is full.
  • The look on a teenager’s face when I told him I’ve lived through eleven presidents. Priceless.
  • Baking soda for getting the cucumber odor out of the fridge and freezer.
  • Another satisfying batch of tzatziki, used more mint, will use more garlic next time, waiting to try fresh dill in a batch when it comes to the farmers market.
  • Learning how not to flavor the entire freezer and refrigerator contents with eau d’cucumber. Let salted cucumber drain its water in bowl on counter, doesn’t take long and then take the few minutes it takes to squeeze the rest of the water out. Store in a tightly sealed container.
  • Hands that smell like cucumber.
  • Sweet Oregon strawberries.
  • Water.

Hoping you have a lovely week.

Namaste. Peace. Blessings.

Floral ribbon border by Laurel Burch

This entry was posted in abundance, Aging, GRATITUDE, Grief, Health, History, Homemaking, Photography, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Gratitude Sunday: The Queen’s New Bed: Part Deux

  1. piratesorka says:

    I am sure you are going to outlive the current president too.

    Like

    • sassy kas says:

      I sure as *F* hope so. I am a tad bit healthier than he is, and I am ornery and stubborn enough to insist on sticking around until we get a woman in office. Or at least somebody who isn’t an insane, narcissistic, misogynistic, racist thief.

      Like

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