farewell my... futon?!

what feels like more than half a life time ago i left my parents home to make my way in the world, as they say. i took with me, amongst other things, the single wooden bed that my father had built and that i had slept on for most of my childhood and teenage years. it was pretty nice of my parents to shift this bed for me given that my leaving was acrimonious with me unequivocally telling them to go fuck themselves. (story for another story.)

upon relocating to sydney after a year or two at uni i decided i would like an adult bed. me big girl now! i bought a double futon bed from a shop now closed on king street, newtown. they delivered it to the apartment i was sharing with my flat mate, now husband, paul, in parramatta. (story for another story-if you're interested that is.) i adored this futon. it was my first major purchase, it was furniture; a big deal in itself, it was funky, it was oh so comfortable! i know futons don't work for a lot of people but i really liked the hard mattress and the solid lumpiness of it as you tried to tuck sheets around it or turn it over.

this futon has been shipped to every place i've since laid my head; ashfield, ultimo, pyrmont, brisbane, erskineville mark I, jannali, erskineville mark II, kirribilli. it was in kirribilli, the first place paul and i moved into together as a couple that we sawed it to pieces, screwed hunking, heavy blocks of timber and industrial hinges to it and converted it to a sofa bed. this operation also involved covering it in psychedelic purple material and sewing lime green ties thru it. we broke at least half a dozen tapestry and furniture needles on that task.
as a sofa bed it has served us many years in accepting the weary bodies of expected and unexpected guests. it has sat and lain in our numerous, changing lounge rooms, bombarded by baby boys, clawed by our cats, dusted in dropped dinners; all equanimously recieved. only once did it extract a revenge. while in pyrmont, unfolding it from sofa to bed on slipping wood floors it threw me off balance, happily engulfing my right little finger in its closing maw, crushing the bone, causing me to cry and curse at once.

now the purple futon is adventuring without us, cast adrift in the unpredictable homes of the inner west. moving percy into her own room, where the futon had previously reigned supreme, necessitated me breastfeeding her also in that room. the futon without arm rests or method to support my arms and back sufficiently made way for an arm chair more suited to the task. poor futon took up position on the footpath with a neatly scrawled note "free - note, very heavy, no liability accepted." hardly two hours had passed when purple futon was gone.

so this bed that carried me thru many homes, many tears, many tumbles is now someone elses to enjoy. i hope they do.