Posted by: A Part of the Solution | February 19, 2010

Oh my! How ’bout them Zs!

The mattresses arrived yesterday from the Organic Mattress Store (theorganicmattressstore.com). With them came organic pillows–cotton and wool, and organic mattress pads. The organic sheets and pillowcases arrived earlier in the week from Suite Sleep, Inc.

The farm manager got back not too early from helping our neighbor at evening milking. We were busy until bedtime setting up some of the brand, new beds and covering them with the fresh, bright linens (blue for the full and queen sizes–twin gets ‘natural’). The frames were about what you might expect. Well, they weren’t shiny white, since their covers are also unbleached.

But the mattresses were a little disconcerting to handle. They were floppy. Floppier than a new futon by far. Floppy enough that we were wondering to each other if they would be the way we remembered them from our trip to the showroom. We both prefer a firmer sleep surface. These just didn’t seem like what we’d decided on.

I crawled between the still-warm-from-the-dryer sheets. I had an organic cotton pillow under my head (they’re a little firmer than the soft-as-a-cloud wool pillows).  And I didn’t wake up until Our Buckle came in at 5:15 to see if anyone wanted to play.

That’s a euphemism for making a gradually escalating fuss until everyone has to get up to have any peace. So I got up quickly to prevent Our Buckle from getting Kaya the Wonder Dog (she wonders why we put up with that worthless cat) so whipped up that the whole room would descend into a WB cartoon grade tornado of a chase/fight scene. Damn!

I was sleeping really well when Our Buckle woke me. I woke up smoothly. I felt rested (though I’d only been down for six hours). My body didn’t ache anything like as much as I was expecting from all the prep labor I’d done the day before to get the house ready to absorb six full bedding sets.

I’d spent considerable chunks of the day hauling stuff from A to B. I’d been cleaning in corners and under things on my hands and knees. I’d been lifting and storing things here there and everywhere. And I still felt great on short sleep. I have to credit the bed. I do credit the bed. Whoa! What a bed.

The farm manager is still down. He’s had nine hours so far. I finished the night-into-morning on the sofa in front of the wood stove, where Our Buckle could play tag with my now somewhat chewed-on hands. And I still feel better than I expected when I lay me down to sleep last night.

Kudos to the mattress people. They know their job. They’re doing their job. These beds are worth every darned red cent they asked and I paid.

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