inspired by my sister, i have toyed with the idea of starting a blog since my big move. i put it off and put it off...just not that into it. but something has changed. i have found myself mentally noting good blog topics, stories, tidbits. things like my first Florida Scrub Jay citing (an endangered, endemic bird). then the cologne wearing handyman. and now, a reflection on friends and broken beds.
my first: as a family, we really know how to vacation. especially on the beach. lots of sun, sand, and water. girls only. beach front condo with real rooms and beds for all but the lowly youngest. so it was a fold out couch for me and bashley. ever watch a show where the character is on some rickety fold out bed that proceeds to fold in on the person, trapping them in a human V? yep. it happened. TWICE! (yes amers, TWICE!). while watching golden girls. the solution: sleep three deep in one twin bed, seriously aggravate sister amy, and end up sleeping in closet with projectile carrots interrupting my REM cycle. whoopie, whoopie, whoopie.
incident two: picture it. warrensbrug. 199-something. a lazy teenage girl sleeping in on a summer morning. sleeping, that is, on the top bunk of her beloved bunk beds once shared with her older sisters. enters bashley--the honorary sister--best friend from birth and inseparable companion on weekends, breaks, and summer vacation. unable to motivate the lazy me from my bed, bashley did the only reasonable thing: she joined me on the top bunk while we watched some quality summer morning program (saved by the bell, matlock, the price is right...who knows...). no problem. this had been done many times, but apparently one time too many. down went the bed, followed by bash, and after the initial shock wore off, there went the hysterical laughter from two silly "sisters."
tres? the girls in tejas. all of us plus josey lounging (on my big girl antique bed) the morning after a smashing new year's eve celebration. just a little girl time. she (the bed) tried to warn me that we were pushing her old oak limits, but i ignored her wooden groans. as i'm boasting that everything's fine ("ignore the sound the cracking wood. don't be scared."--even did a little mocking bed bounce) she put me in my place--on the floor with four friends and a mutt.
number four: same old bed. same old problem. fixed once, but apparently not well enough. this time with two dogs, a jordan, and a movie...adventures in babysitting, i think. despite the "not again!" factor, the humor was undeniable and the bed fixable--for good this time. i think...
summary: four separate occasions. three different beds. three states. seven fellow survivors plus two canines. all ridiculous and all hilarious and all great memories of some of my favorite people. it's the people that motivated me to write this. because as i write, i remember--remember how special these people were and are to me. remember the things we've shared. AND remind myself to look forward to more stories and maybe more broken beds:)
