Thursday, July 02, 2026
Thursday Thirteen
Wednesday, July 01, 2026
30 Day Gratitude Challenge
that my husband built for me.
I live there in love and peace
Amongst a copse of trees.
Inside we have it filled with goods
the things that bring us joy.
Our bed, the couch, the TV too
and other types of toys.
_____________
Last month, The Gal did a 30-day gratitude challenge. I've swiped it to do for July. Only I'm going to try to do it in rhyme, just because.
Tuesday, June 30, 2026
Tick Tock, Courthouse Clock
| A nice crowd gathered. |
| The part that holds the clock, one on each side, was lowered into place. |
| I bet those guys were hot under there. |
| The top waited its turn, sitting patiently on Main Street. |
| Officials did what they do best: offer up speeches in front of port-a-potties. |
| Getting the top ready. |
| We were told there would be a delay, and we left. |
| Later we drove back to see the finished product. |
| It's even topped with a weather vane. |
Here's a link to a video of my husband's grandmother talking about rebuilding the courthouse after it burned.
Monday, June 29, 2026
Doe, Fawn, and Ticks
We have an upsurge in tick problems around here this year. One of our local television stations even reported recently on how bad they've become.
Sunday, June 28, 2026
Sunday School
I encourage you to visit other participants in Sunday Stealing posts and leave a comment. Cheers to all us thieves who love memes, however we come by them.
Saturday, June 27, 2026
Saturday 9: Cadillac Ranch
| The "Love" sign at Botetourt Center at Greenfield (courtesy Botetourtva.gov) |
Because Virginia is for Lovers, after all. (One of the best pieces of state advertising ever.)
Friday, June 26, 2026
Yucca Plants
These were my yucca plants along the driveway this year. I think they're lovely, but the flowers didn't last as long as usual. I expect that was because of the drought.
Thursday, June 25, 2026
Thursday Thirteen #965
| Black-legged tick and lone star tick (AI drawing) |
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Wednesday, June 24, 2026
The Mattress Goes BAA
Having determined that we would replace the mattress, my husband set out again for the mattress store. Once again, I wasn’t sure what was going on, or if we were buying, exchanging, or what.
Neither of us had done any research about mattresses. Me,
because I had no clue what was going on. As for my husband, he was just trying
to get his back to stop hurting.
He decided we needed a firm mattress with a softer mattress
top. So, the helpful sales lady, who I’m sure by now thought we had been bitten
by rabid bats, had us rest on first this mattress then another mattress.
He narrowed it down to two. One was a Stearns and Foster,
which our old mattress had been, and the other was by a company I’d never heard
of.
The Stearns and Foster was obviously not of the same quality
as the mattress he’d so cavalierly tossed away a few weeks early, but it was
also much better than Count Dracula’s slab.
The other mattress felt very nice and comfy. I liked it.
Until I didn’t.
I asked what was in the mattress. The helpful sales lady
told us the mattress was by Spink and Co., out of England, but now made here in
the USA, only out of wool from Yorkshire, England, and this was the same brand
that the royals in the UK slept upon. The wool inside came from sheep,
cashmere, angora, alpaca, etc.
“I’m allergic to wool,” I reminded my husband.
“It’s in a mattress,” he said.
“I’m allergic to wool,” I said again.
“It’s all been cleaned. It’s not that foam stuff that
off-gasses. It’ll be fine,” he said.
“I can’t wear a wool coat,” I reminded him.
He bought the mattress with the wool in it. It cost about
four times more than the first mattress.
The day the mattress arrived, it came encased in cardboard
and plastic. After it was placed in the mattress encasement, and the movers
left, I could feel the itch all over my body.
I had the air purifiers on high.
It’s just the wool from the plastic encasement, I told
myself.
I also smelled something. I am quite sensitive to odors. At
first it smelled faintly like cow, then it turned to a smell like burlap.
Everything seemed to have calmed down after the air
purifiers ran a few hours, and it was even better after I showered.
Then my husband caught an upper respiratory thing, and gave
it to me, and I had no way of knowing if I was sneezing and had watering eyes
because of the virus or the mattress.
I started getting up at 5:30 a.m. just to get off the
mattress.
It’s now been three weeks since we purchased this mattress.
I still won’t make up the bed; I smooth out the sheets and then fold them all
back, letting the thing air out even if it doesn’t need it.
My upper respiratory virus is better, aside from a lingering
cough. My husband still has a bit of a cough, too.
And last night when we ran the humidifier, because we both
seem to be very dry, I smelled burlap again. When I mentioned it, my husband
scoffed.
“You could smell an ant fart 3 miles away,” he said.
This doesn’t have an end yet.
I don’t know that it will. I may be fine sleeping on this
mattress. It sleeps very well, I have to say. It’s very cozy and comfortable.
But it also has wool.
And like I said, I’m allergic to wool.
Stay tuned.
Tuesday, June 23, 2026
Count Dracula’s Slab
Not long after I’d fallen in the night, my husband declared we needed a new mattress. He wanted to get a smaller mattress so I didn’t need to climb into the bed. He wanted to lower the bed as much as we could with an adjustable bed frame, removing the bed slats from our beautiful cherry poster bed so the mattress would be lower to the floor.
I argued against this. We did not need a new mattress. The
mattress had nothing to do with my fall. I fell because I was half asleep and
trying to look upside down under the bed, not because I was trying to climb
into the bed.
But he would not be swayed. We were out and he drove us to a
mattress store. I thought we were just going to look.
“I want the firmest mattress you have,” he told the sales
woman. She led him to an ultra-firm Beauty Rest mattress.
It felt like a rock.
We tried out a few other mattresses, but he determined the
first one we tried was the one he wanted. And he wanted it then.
“What are you doing?” I said. “We don’t need a new
mattress.”
“I want something for my back, ok? This will help my back.”
Ah. So it had nothing to do with my fall. He was just using
that as an excuse.
The mattress came the following week. The nice delivery
people set up the new adjustable bed frame, put the mattress in the mattress
encasement, and tossed the mattress onto the bed frame.
I added a mattress pad and the bed linens. I told myself it
would be fine. I sleep on a bed wedge anyway, one that’s eight inches thick at
the top, and oversized, and then I have pillows under my legs, so it shouldn’t
matter about the mattress, right?
Wrong.
That mattress was like sleeping on stone. Count Dracula
wouldn’t have been able to sleep on that slab of granite. My back went into
multiple muscle spasms. I could hardly stand up.
This went on for three days and my husband called the
mattress place and said we needed to return the mattress. “My wife doesn’t like
it,” he said.
They told us the agreement said we had to try it for 30 days
before we could return the mattress.
I suggested I would stay at a hotel for the next 21 days.
One with a nice soft mattress.
He went to Walmart and bought a foam mattress topper. I told
him just to get a twin for me, but when he came back with a queen, I knew the
truth.
The mattress hurt his back, too.
“It doesn’t feel as good as I thought it would,” he mumbled
when I confronted him.
Fortunately, the mattress sales woman took pity on us and
agreed that I would probably never find a good night’s sleep on Count Dracula’s
slab.
So back we went. And things got weirder.



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