The mattress is due in mid-June, Stilly. “Two to three weeks”, they said.

The movers are due on Monday afternoon. First, they will disassemble the metal-framed queen-sized bed (a complex task requiring a ratchet wrench, two kinds of screwdriver, and much better eyesight than mine), and haul its components from the guest room to the garage. The mattress and its base are destined for the dump (at 25 years old , they rate high on the ick scale), and the movers will do that deed when they finish at my house. The metal bed frame will go to Habitat for Humanity, which picks up donations on Tuesdays.

Next, they will move my grandparents’ Victorian double bed from my bedroom to the guest room. This is a break-down-and-reassemble operation that Edmund and I could have done easily, but is out of the question for me on my own.

Finally, the movers will haul the Mennonite-built single (twin) bed frame from the basement to my bedroom and assemble it there. Made of quarter-sawn oak in the Mission style, it’s so massive that I cannot even pick up the headboard by myself, let alone carry it up two flights of stairs. The new mattress is for that bed, so I’ll have to sleep in the guest room for a couple of weeks.

Why go to all this trouble, you ask? The fact is that I would prefer not to sleep by myself — or even with the cat — in a big bed. With all that acreage, it’s always in the back of my mind that Edmund’s not with me, and not just storm-stayed in Newfoundland.

As for the queen-sized bed, it’s simply too big for the guest room. Also, I never liked it much; its only virtue was its low price when we needed a bed wide enough for both of us and long enough to keep Edmund’s feet in-board. I was forever bumping my hip on the sharp top corner of the footboard, and it’s a highly effective dust-catcher.

The concert choir’s last show of the season is tonight, so by tomorrow I will have 65 sets of music to sort and return to library storage. That project will choke the music room for a couple of weeks.