You know spring is finally here when you find yourself throwing your extra blanket off in the middle of the night. You decide you will start opening your window and let in all that fresh air as you sleep because (yay) the weather is really turning. And you fall asleep with a smile on your face.
But that smile becomes lethal when a half hour after you fall asleep, fire trucks scream past your house in response to a call from two towns away. “Great! Just great” you tell yourself for the next hour as you try to settle yourself again.
And a smile is nowhere to be found at 4:45 a.m. when the birds in the tree outside the window begin caroling each other and one of them is seriously out of tune. It’s more of a squawk. After 10 minutes of that you begin formulating a plan to get even with the squawker by either setting off a smoke bomb in the tree or blowing the tree up altogether. At least that is the plan until someone has had their coffee – which I don’t drink so it took me longer to find a less violent solution:
The window fan.
It’s rumbly so it will drown out most noises and make the room cool enough to put that extra blanket back on the bed — except … I moved the bed.
It was because of another one of my bright ideas that snowballed into an avalanche. I’d always been a tiny bit jealous that my sister got our grandmother’s cedar chest. I don’t know why I was because I hate the smell of cedar but I finally put an end to the green-eyed monster by buying one at a flea market last summer. It was pretty banged up and it sat in the garage for a good six months waiting for the hubby to bring it to life, which he did and it’s gorgeous.
Now where do I put it? The plan all along was to line it with garbage bags and store as many quilts in it as I could because I have a serious overload here. A quick scan of the downstairs led me to know it should be upstairs. And wouldn’t it be pretty at the foot of my bed — if only my bedroom didn’t have so much furniture in it. To make it work I gave away my old treadmill even though there was nothing wrong with it other than I don’t need two of them. The recipients chipped some molding carrying it out.
I placed one of the dressers on a sheet and dragged it down the hall to another bedroom, gouging the cherry hardwood floor along the way. My attempts to iron the gouges with a wet washcloth improved the ruts but now I have a trail of iron shapes running the length of the hallway. It’s a good thing I’m married to a carpenter — who will fix these things — when he gets around to it.
Because the room is long I felt I could really gain some space by moving the bed away from the window and putting it against the side wall. I was also able to super clean the room in the process.
The downsides to rearranging your bedroom after 30 years are plentiful:
Parts of the carpet that were never walked on before are now so high it’s almost a trip hazard.
The gullies from where the bedframe rested are equally treacherous.
The bed is no longer under the light so using it to lay out fabric choices is useless.
I can now see myself in the full length mirror in the bathroom as I climb into bed and have a compelling need to tell my reflection goodnight.
Making my way to the bathroom in the middle of the night without tripping in the uneven carpet or stubbing my toes on the cedar chest has become a dangerous mission. I’d almost prefer to wet the bed.
The cedar chest is something I now have to work around when changing the sheets.
And last but definitely not least, there’s the window fan that blows nice cool air onto my dresser while I simmer into a fine stew in the dead space that is now my place of slumber. I had to get a stand fan to blow the cool air in my direction and it’s just one more thing to dodge in the middle of the night.
Obviously I’m taking a poll to find out how long I must suffer before it’s safe to ask the hubby to put the bed back where it belongs. But then I will need to find a new spot for the cedar chest, which is slowing becoming a thorn in my side.