I have a tendency to romanticize objects. Such was the case regarding our bed. The bed that the Brawny Man had when I met him, the bed in our patio home where I felt the safest I had ever felt in my life, the bed where four children were conceived, the bed that newborns were snuggled into late at night to nurse and coo. An antique metal frame, just a small, double bed, but we were smaller then. It has been painted several different colors, depending on the scheme of the room, yet it was still The Bed. Just the sight of it made me feel 26 again, that magical year when my life truly started.
With all this emotion entangled within the frame of The Bed, it took quite some convincing to get me to agree that perhaps in our dotage we might be more comfortable in a queen size - but I was not willing to give up the antique frame. Brawny Man would need to figure out how to expand it and incorporate it to accommodate a larger mattress, but no was was I letting go of it.
the day we put down the wood floor and were painting the walls in our bedroom and I caught a glimpse of The Bed from the corner of my eye, and through the metal bars it reminded me of
a crib in a Romanian orphanage
the kind where the children were never picked up and loved.
We promptly bought a queen size sleigh bed.
The Romanian orphanage crib was dismantled and relegated to the side yard where the Brawny Man gardens, waiting to be disposed of. Until last week when I had yet another brilliant idea (I come up with the ideas...and God Bless him, the Brawny Man always figures out how to accomplish it). Let’s use the rails for the peas and other climbers in the garden!
The garden is in the narrow side yard. Gary built boxes to garden in, as the desert soil can be quite hard on vegetables. He painted the rails black and even shined up the brass, and there they are...our garden beds.
They still make me smile.
Oh, the new vine growing on the trellis is a
The Bauernfeinds have a Bower Vine.
Now that just makes me giggle.