Sometimes, you make the bed but no one wants to sleep in it

<a href="mailto:llilja17@hotmail.com">By LORRAINE LILJA</a>
Innocent Bystander

May 07, 2008 04:31 am

— Whatever happened to that troublemaker, Mrs. Murphy?
She was so careless with her cow that she burned Chicago down.
She can't have been a very good cook, because someone added overalls to her soup to give it some flavor. The Irish still sing of the event every St. Patrick's Day.
"It's an Irish trick, that's true. I can lick the Mick who threw ... the overalls in Mrs. Murphy's chowder."
With a resume like that, you wouldn't think I would want an invention bearing her name in my home. After all, everything she touched turned to ashes.
But my home is a small senior apartment, and space is very limited. When my offspring came to visit, they slept on the couch. I became addicted to the home decor TV programs, and many designers solved the problem with a bed that folded into the wall: the Murphy bed.
They were handsome pieces of furniture that contained queen-sized beds designed to disappear into a solid wall.
I was very impressed with the idea. The bed tilted up and disappeared when not in use. I Googled Murphy beds and found quite a few advertised on the Internet. The only problem was the price. They are very expensive.
Since that old New England saying has become my motto: "Eat it up; wear it out. Make it do, or do without," I wracked my brain to come up with another solution. It took the shape of a brother who is a Jack-of-all-trades.
Brother Jim has never said no to me, so when I asked if he could build a Murphy bed, he said, "Sure."
Years ago, I had a wall-length bookcase built. It was cleverly designed, with two three-foot-wide sections that were joined by shelves. The length of the center shelves could vary in length to fill whatever space was available. We decided to take those shelves out and put the Murphy bed between the bookcase units.
Jim got right to work, and weeks later installed a single Murphy bed. It even had a winch that raised and lowered the bed. It was stained to match the bookcases. I purchased a foam mattress and a luxurious blanket and awaited a visit.
When my daughter came, she giggled at the addition as we lowered it. The bed flipped up and out of sight in the morning. The second night of her visit, she asked if she could sleep on the sofa! The Murphy bed's mattress rested on plywood and had no give, and she found it to be uncomfortable.
That was the only time it was opened, and I had lost four feet of storage space. My knick-knacks were getting nicked and knocked or hidden away.
I recently remodeled my living room, and the stark Murphy bed mocked me. The stained bottom of the bed was hardly artistic. And my son had purchased a huge TV that sat in front of it.
This past Sunday, Mother's Day, my son took Mrs. Murphy's bed apart. For the next few days, we had a dumpster bed.
"The best laid schemes o' mice an' men / Gang aft a-gley." -- Robert Burns
I wonder if Bobby Burns knew Mrs. Murphy?