Brace Yourself

I’v been distracted from sewing this week, as I stealthily colonise the downstairs store room with my sewing paraphernalia. For the first time in years, I have a sewing-free bedroom. Or mostly, at any rate. There will be photos of the final product in the downstairs room, but it’s not there yet. So in the mean time, here’s a work-in-progress pic that I took yesterday (sorry for the poor quality – taken with a phone and no flash, so amazed that it’s this good, really).


The work in progress. And yes, that large basket on the floor? That’s full of works in progress, in various stages of completion, venerability, and likelihood of ever being finished. But on the plus side, look how neat and pretty my stash is now!


The opportunities created by a bedroom that is just for bedroom related things proved too much for me, though. Rather than do the sensible thing and get everything in it’s place downstairs, I doubled my work load and decided to re-arrange the bedroom as well. I was shifting and turning my bed – still piled high with various bits and pieces, since the only way to turn/move a bed in a confined space is to get everything else out of the way, of course – when I suddenly noticed that things no longer seemed to be moving as they should.

At this point I should explain. I have a queen size bed with an black metal Ikea frame, complete with various curlicues and posts. It’s a nightmare to move it over carpet, because it sinks into the pile and becomes incredibly resistant to budging in any way that doesn’t inlve me either getting down low and applying my whole body weight to the frame, or lifting at one corner and shoving incrementally until it is where I want it to be. I got the bed halfway turned and in the middle of the room before the problem began. I got impatient and gave it a sharp tug backwards, when a corner sagged, there was a clanging sound, and a wood-on-wood noise. Yep, I broke my bed.

In my own defence, the corner in question was already weakened. Somewhere in my many moves the weld holding a crucial bracket in place had half popped. Of the two welds supposed to be holding the bedrail in place, only one was still functional. Turns out that tugging on the opposite end of the bed is a sure way to get this particular weld to give as well. Lucky for me, muscle arrived home at that point, so I have help to manouver things into a semblance of normal. With his help, I could prop the frame on carefully selected books (not for size or strength, rather for how unlikely it was that I would be fussed should they be damaged by supporting my bed. Thank god for university books on theory of literature and architecture). Catch was the rail kept moving to the side and collapsing again. The solution? The rail is now braced off the wall and seems to be holding. Of course, given that the buttressing involves a small carry-on sized suitcase and a large roll of yellow trace, it’s not perfect by any stretch, but it has to do for the moment. I debated taking a photo of this, but the room is still such chaos generally, thanks to having to stop re-arranging and get on with building my bed, so I wasn’t brave enough to immortalise my own messiness to that extent.

My sleep last night was rather careful, let me tell you.


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