Three weeks ago, in Occupy Blogosphere 11 I wrote about the changes I’d made to our main bedroom; how cosy and inspiring it was. By the time we’d finished, it was too dark to take photographs. I promised myself that I’d post pretty pictures as soon as I could.
But I never got around to it.
I was going to explain why the following week – but events at work incensed me so much, that I wrote posts about that here and here, instead.
Now that the work situation has been resolved, I can return to why I still haven’t shown any photos of our new, improved bedroom.
On the Sunday morning, following the change-around, I woke early and went to the bathroom, looking forward to snuggling back under the duvet for a little while longer. No such luck. As I padded back to bed, my feet got wet. At first I wondered if Summer had left us a liquid calling card – but it didn’t smell of cat wee and she’s never done that before, so I checked the glass of water beside my bed. It was full – that could only mean one thing.
Our bed was leaking!
We’ve slept on water-filled mattresses for more than fifteen years and this is not the first time that one has sprung a leak; the manufacturers include repair outfits, so it’s always a possibility. Contrary to popular belief, a punctured waterbed does not cause a tidal wave, flood the room below or send you surfing down the stairs in your pjs. You can actually unscrew the filler cap and bounce up and down on the bed without spilling a drop. Freaky!
On inspection, ours had clearly been leaking slowly, for a quite a while and the inner lining had scrunched up, allowing collected water to seep through the spongy sides. There was a time when this would have been a major drama but I’ve changed my point of view.
Apart from the fact that I was forced to forego my lie-in, there was no damage – the water hadn’t run through the floorboards, the bedding was only damp around the edges and I was planning to wash the rug anyway. And we’re fortunate enough to have a spare bedroom, with a comfortable double bed – albeit buried under rolls of Christmas paper, winter woollies, piles of clean laundry and the cat who isn’t our cat.
When I thought about it, my over-riding emotion was relief – I’d been fearful of this happening for a while as we’ve repaired it several times already. Martin said he felt the same, adding that now we could go ahead and have the walls in our room plastered. Apparently he’d been figuring out how that could be managed, with the heavy waterbed in situ.
So we’ve decided not to rush ahead and buy a replacement mattress, (unable to locate the source of the leak, we’ve thrown the old one away but kept the base and the drawers.) Instead our friendly plasterer has given us an estimate and agreed to start work in a couple of weeks. Which gives us enough time to prepare – we’ve already started stripping off the polystyrene sheets and lining paper, put up by the former owners. I’ve always wondered what horrors might lurk underneath this but the plasterer pulled off a strip and the walls look sound – bringing the overall cost down, considerably.
A niggling fear has been dismissed and another job will soon be crossed off our ‘to-do’ list. When it comes to decorating the room, we’ll have a smooth canvas and can allow our creativity full rein – we’re already tossing a few ideas around. And – compared to genuine suffering in this world – how lucky are we to own a waterbed; to have sufficient funds set aside for the work, to be fit and able to do some of it ourselves? It’s turning out to be a win/win situation all round.
As I said, I would not always have thought so. There have been times when I focused on the negative, allowing situations to bring me down. Instead I’ve made a conscious decision to accept minor inconveniences like this, as part of the yin/yang of life. I’m ‘going with the flow’, (pardon the pun) and grasping the opportunities that open up.
As a wise friend (The Artist?) once told me, it’s all a matter of perspective.
Use it, or lose it!
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