I have to empty my thought bin somehow. Thank goodness for the blogging venue. Here goes...
Has anyone else but me ever looked back to remember what beds in which you've slept in the past? No, I don't suppose so, but I did. Not on purpose. "Something" triggered it and maybe it was having cold feet because I forgot to put socks on the other night. Here goes....
The first bed I can remember was in the upper attic of an old house of my Aunt's. I think it was a 'stay-over.' I had ducked under the heavy brownish tapestry drapes that were the 'door' to the upstairs garret and climbed up the narrow and steep, emerald colored, velvet carpeted stairway. There it was, the white and inviting bed. I had to climb a couple of steps that were placed at its side to crawl under the covers. Never before had I been encased in such luxury. I was asked not to jump on it. I now know that it had a goose down mattress and a goose down cover and I sunk very deep in to it and it was soo soft and safe-feeling.
Another was a very high-backed brass bed with balls on each corner very similar to the fancier one pictured below. It was in my grandmother's spare bedroom, which also was furnished with a full sized potty chair. The bed was a bit hard, but the best thing was that I was permitted to read in bed. The light over my book was supplied by by a hanging bulb covered with a glass bell shaped globe, open at the end. I was to pull on the long string with a button on its end to turn it off when I was finished with reading. I had never read in bed before!
(The graphics here were taken from the internet.)
As I grew, my family moved into a three bedroom home. There was only me, my brother and my parents; brother in one, me in one and parents in the largest. When my twin sisters were born, my brother was soon put in MY bedroom and I had to share the space. This is when I was six years old and my brother three. The space sharing went on until I married at age 19. We had a delineation line marked across the room and the only time we crossed it was for him to leave or enter the room or for me to cross into his side to the clothes closet. Sometimes we cheated when Jack Frost had painted pretty pictures on our windows. One was mid-line and the other was on his side. We liked to scratch our initials into the frosty surface! I remember scruffing my knuckles on that bed bottom when changing the sheets. I don't remember the headboard except I had a hanging pink plastic reading lamp over it and, as always, read in bed - often.
My first bed as a bride was a blonde creation of wood and shelves and sliding doors for a headboard. This looks like it - EXACTLY!
When I married the second time, our bed was in the room prepared by my husband's mother and it was a metal bed. We moved it with us from New Jersey to our own home 6 months later, and then to Pennsylvania. In Pennsylvania I had it painted white. I still read in bed with another lamp hooked over the back. This one was brown. When we moved into the cabin across the lake, we sold it to the buyers who wanted it to remain. It looked just like this one, wheels and all before it was painted.
Today I have a vintage maple twin bed with wheels. The wheels are very important because if I couldn't roll it away from the closet doors, I wouldn't be able to make it easily or enter my closet! No carpeting is possible either. I'd only wear it out. I don't read in bed anymore. And, I never remember having a bed without a footboard. The studio couches are not included here, even though they could be made into beds for company and we had those, oh yes. Uncomfortable they were.
All I know is that beds cradle sleepers for almost half of their lifetimes. Well now I've been able to squeeze out the last drop of memory about beds and will be plagued about another thing from my past to write about soon, you can bed on it.
And there you have it straight from the "Bedhead."