Sunday, May 15, 2011


We returned on Friday from two weeks of travel, and with the exception of the visit with a brother and sister-in-law, we spent our nights in places that boasted---yes, BOASTED!---of the large sizes of the beds in their rooms.
Bob and I have spent 50 years of marriage in a bed that apparently seems too small in the eyes of the modern world. He built this bed as a high-school shop-class project, making it out of prime cherry wood in a then-common size described as "full" or "double."
Over all these years, it's been just the right size for the two of us.
Today I sought out "Pieces of My Mind; Notes from an Old Wife"---a small book I wrote as a Christmas gift for my husband 20 years ago. The book contains my free-form poem that may not be a masterpiece in any way, but it perfectly describes how Bob and I still feel when it comes to the subject of bed size:


We've spent the nights
of our long marriage
close together
in a nice old-style
double bed.

Never switched to Queen size;
never switched to King size;
cozy we've slept
in our double bed.

Over the years
our children have told us:
Try King size; try Queen size;
you'll never go back.

One night while we travelled,
we paid extra dollars
to get us a King size
in a first-class hotel.

All through the night,
we kept losing each other.

So now we agree:
If offered a King size
for the same price as "our size,"
we'll always take our size;
it's the best way to go.

We might even pay EXTRA
for LESS space between us!