we’re going Swiss

Recently my husband and I duked it out in the bedroom. For hours we plummeted the pillows into some semblance of comfort, tugged mercilessly at the comforter, and cursed every coiled spring in our mattress! I even took out the body pillows we use when one of us is sick and needs some added cuddle. Those got repositioned every-which-way, then one got tossed to the floor, ‘they’re useless’!

To make matters worse insomnia seems to amplify every single sound. The faucet doing chinese torture on the aluminum sink, one freaking drop at a time! The car outside that just had to clear its pipes as the alarm blared to kingdom come. The late dog walker with a mutt that can’t tell night from day, barking at any license plate! The kids someone forgot to give a curfew. The couple that walked and yelled at each other in a synchronized rhythm. The ambulance picking up the twilighting, elderly woman hollering at the top of her voice her preference of hospitals. The cars that continuously kept hitting the pot hole our tax-payer money won’t fix! The old wood floors that believe themselves to be nightingale Japanese versions creaking at the slightest breath. The fridge humming away white noise on a clocked schedule. The door slamming of a disgruntled being shaking all the others in proximity…

At one point my husband staring at the ceiling and speaking to no one in particular states, ‘we are going Swiss’. I’m in the middle of getting back into bed after the umpteenth trip to the bathroom.

I stop, ‘I beg your pardon’?

‘We are going Swiss’. And what’s that suppose to mean, I ask myself ready to do another round with my pillow.

‘We are going Swiss tomorrow’. Ah, we’re qualifying the statement, he’s making progress. I pull at the comforter, the damn thing is king size- when did it shrink?

‘Yep, we are going Swiss tomorrow, if it’s the last thing I do’! We’re getting there, give him some room.

‘Yep, we’re going Swiss tomorrow, if it’s the last thing I do. I’m calling that Tempr Pedic company and ordering a “memory” mattress’!

I stare up at the ceiling. Eureka! Alhamdullilah! My husband has discovered America- Christopher Columbus would be proud…I settle in the comforting knowledge that relief is on the way.

‘Yes dear’. It only took you a quarter of century and a farewell to a millennium to come to your senses!

Morpheus, I’m here awaiting your arms… ah… blissful sleep with a knowing smile of having won the battle…


12 Responses to “we’re going Swiss”

  1. March 10, 2010 at 8:44 am

    Hilarious! You must let us know when the Swiss arrive!

    • 2 INAL
      March 10, 2010 at 7:26 pm

      Next Friday!!! We went to the showroom and tried it out- my husband had to pull me off before I started snoring- OMG that bed is great!

      I’ve bought a whole new set for it- I’m celebrating- my dear…these tired bones will finally get some rest.

      Now…about the living room…

  2. March 10, 2010 at 10:30 pm

    Fabulous! Couldn’t be too soon! Of course you must have a whole new set for it! And which nationality will provide the living room?

    • 4 INAL
      March 10, 2010 at 11:00 pm

      I have to give it some thought…it can’t wait another 25 years. I won’t be around to enjoy it! And these things have to be well orchestrated, you know?

      Any ideas? Hahaha

  3. March 11, 2010 at 11:37 am

    Hmmm the Swiss are holding the bedroom…French, Italian, or Spanish for the bedroom?
    Or Yemeni!!!! LOL 🙂

  4. March 11, 2010 at 11:57 am

    Edit…for the living room!

    • 7 INAL
      March 11, 2010 at 11:52 pm

      Well you see we have a dilemma of sorts, which is why I only “tackled the mattress issue.

      When I was around 18 or so, I helped an elderly gentleman with the funeral arrangements for his wife of about 60 years. They had married young, had their children, saw them grow, move away, and have kids of their own.

      When his wife died all of his children were living in other states, and he wanted to do this on his own-he had promised his wife. So he asked his children to arrive for the funeral-but he would take care of the rest before hand. And that’s where I come in. I had been apartment hunting-newly divorced and wanting a place of my own. I walked into the building where he lived as he was exiting. He looked so frail, that asked him if he was ok- could I help him. He looked at me and said, ‘actually yes-you’re as tiny as my wife was (I barely stand at 5 feet, 1 inch and a half!!) She would agree. Can you help me go to the funeral home to make arrangements for her? She died this morning you know?’

      It broke my heart and I agreed. I helped him out with everything he asked that day-made all the calls he needed done from the funeral parlor’s office, and such. By early evening I was dropping him off from the taxi we took to come back to the building.

      When we got to the entrance door he asked, ‘do you read?’- I chuckled and said, ‘I love the smell of books.’ He laughed saying he thought so because he had seen a book from the open side of my bag. Then he asked me if I knew some one from the building and apologized for taking me away from my visit. I told him no, I just happened to go there because I was apartment hunting.

      ‘Well then you don’t have to anymore, I’ll be moving out by the end of the week- I couldn’t stay there knowing my wife would never be there again. I’ll move in with my son who wants me to go over to California. Never been there, guess now’s a good a time as any’.

      So within a few days he handed me the lease and keys to his apartment. He had transferred my name onto it. I paid the landlord for the deposit and the month’s rent. Because he had lived there for so long, the rent had increased very little over the years. By the time his children came it was a done deal. And all he took were his clothes and some of his wife’s things. Everything else I inherited, including to my absolute delight, a library filled with books!!!

      It is the apartment where I brought my Yemeni to live when we married and returned to NY. A place where love had been shared until death parted them. I believe it a blessed place. For here is truly where I fell in love with my husband.

      So all the antiques are here, very little is modern. The kitchen and bathrooms being the only places where things have been renovated. The landlord’s son, during the mid eighties had all the windows in the building replaced. But not much else. My kids have grown up in a veritable museum!

      So there is Federalist furniture of very heavy mahogany and ebony everywhere. During the turn of the 19th to 20th century they built to last. We have insured everything- they are a legacy of things gone by; but worth more in memories. The furniture we’ve kept pristine- only redoing the cushions where needed. Many of the rooms when I moved in were covered sheets- hadn’t been used in decades. So what I did was have everything refurbished polished to their original sheen, mirrors in some cases were replaced, china and crystal soak in warm waters, silver polished like mirrors (had my girls friend over at that time for a polish party), but very little else.

      The mattresses were the things I changed as first I moved in, then my new groom, then for each child. My kids all slept as babies in the same brass cribs as that generous and gentle man’s children. When he passed away, his children sent me a card thanking me for what I had done, knowing I had given their dad a precious gift.

      To us, it’s been an honor living here.

  5. March 12, 2010 at 1:02 am

    Oh such a beautiful story and reality. Then it must stay the same!!!! What were you thinking of doing to the living room?

    • 9 INAL
      March 12, 2010 at 9:02 am

      Actually I was thinking of putting in some low seating under the two windows so they make the area look as though it were actually a bay window set- the living room is more like a triangle with a rounded corner and each window is on either side of this rounded wall- you look down to two different street that also meet in the same way. If we put benches topped with seating pillows to run along that area and end in a way that smooth out with the walls- it would look like an alcove almost. My husband says it can be done- if so then we’d put it in a wood that mimics the rest of the room and change the window dressing to match the new style. It has always been an area that is never used, just adorned with a small table and knickknacks.

  6. March 12, 2010 at 8:10 pm

    That sounds great and like a little Arab inspired alcoba! LOL 🙂

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