Getting a bed for our new home has been a fiasco.
The mattress was much larger than the bed frame we bought, though the men we bought if from swore it was just right for a mattress of our dimensions.
A few days later, they swore that there was no such thing as a bed frame big enough for our mattress. Confusing. Frustrating.
But we convinced them, eventually, to make the bed longer. “How long?” they asked. “This long.” Our friend said, pointing to my 6 foot 7 inch self.
So we picked up our bed frame today. It was long enough, but once we brought it home, all the pieces didn’t fit together correctly.
Go buy new parts? No. Call a carpenter? Never. These people have shown me a thing or two about ingenuity, and also taught me that if you don’t do it yourself, it won’t be done for a week.
I wielded a screw-driver as a chisel, wire cutters as a saw, and a glass bottle as a hammer. When the bottle broke, I went outside and got a rock. I smashed and banged for six hours.
And now that stubborn pile of pieces is a bed, which I am happily sitting upon to write this blog.