Our Life in Boxes…

I recently inquired about getting one of those pneumatic chutes installed from Amazon. You know the ones. You connect to the sub-surface network of tubes for only a few dollars more than you're already paying for your free Prime delivery and they install a portal inside your home that receives packages up to 8 cubic feet all within a 2-hour window of placing your order! While of course that manner of delivery is far-fetched right now, I certainly wouldn't put it out of the realm of possibilities in the near future. I guiltily admit I probably get three to five deliveries a week just from Amazon, and there's typically two or three boxes from the regular old post office. I super-guiltily admit occasional deliveries from Temu, too. If you haven't heard of Temu, that's for another story. When I think about the number of cardboard boxes that Joe and I break down every couple of weeks to take to the transfer station (still referred to as the dump) I do cringe a bit. While I try to be the best steward of this precious planet I can be, I am admittedly a conspicuous consumer. I just thank God that all these boxes that get delivered every week aren't constructed of plastic because I just don't think I could tolerate that. I'm leery of the percentage of plastics actually recycled following the standardized practices our communities have established despite best intentions. I'm also frustrated at the huge variety of plastics that are still not accepted at the local transfer station. Yogurt cups, really? Anyway, back to the cardboard. As I write this, Joe and I are down in Port Charlotte, Fla. at our very modest, little doublewide we bought a few years back. At under 800 square feet, it's surprisingly light, bright and spacious. It's got vaulted ceilings and was remodeled by flippers right before we bought it, so everything's painted white and there's all new "luxury vinyl plank" flooring throughout. It's a two bedroom, one-and-a-half bath sweet little place in a small community that feels like a well-kept little resort. Lake, pool, pickleball, clubhouse, etc. When we first got here, I'd ordered a ton of essentials to arrive just when we landed. I'd also made a big list of stuff to pick up at the Tampa IKEA store as well. Oh, what fun it was putting that sofa together! The only thing I hadn't pre-arranged were the two beds. One for our primary and one for the little guest room. We actually stayed in a nearby Airbnb for our first visit to the little house to get it set up and do some much-needed recovery from the recent Hurricane Ian. So, when we got here, I went on Facebook Marketplace in search of beds. Now, before you ick-shame me, I'll admit I'm a frugal fellow. For our little vacation home, I really didn't want to spend a fortune on beds. Their markup is huge, and I certainly don't need one that adjusts my body temperature and rocks me to sleep. Plus, my rationale is that if you're at all a traveler, you're constantly sleeping on beds that a million other people have as well! Fast forward to this Florida visit. We'd decided that the used queen bed we put in the primary was just not big enough for Joe and I to sleep comfortably. We're used to our king size at home in Dublin. Plus, if we moved the queen bed into the guest room, a guest couple could use it instead of only being big enough for one person. Both bedrooms aren't overly large but after measuring, we figured the switch could work and still not leave either room with a jump-in-the-door-onto-a-bed feel. Room enough to walk around and still have nightstands with lamps. Being my usual Frugal Fannie self, I went to Facebook Marketplace and located a sketchy discount mattress place not far from us. I've done this many times before when I've opted to buy new mattresses. I never shop regular furniture or specialty mattress stores because, well, I'm cheap. It's the usual low-end strip mall plaza with a showroom that's far from sublime. The sales guy/owner was pleasant enough, though I think he lives by the no-deodorant-chemicals-touching-my-body motto. After discussing my parameters regarding price point, he pointed us to a bed that with the new high-rise steel bedframe that replaces the box spring would cost about $700 for the whole package. I rolled around on it a bit and thought it was pretty decent. Joe merely pressed it with his hands since it's not in his persona to lay down on a sales floor mattress. I don't like a bed that's shaky. You know what I'm talking about. The kind that wobbles like a bobblehead every time you roll over or get out of and surely disturbs your partner. I like a solid sense but with a fluffy, cloud-like feeling when I'm lying on it. This one had it and I knew that with an added pillow-top mattress cover it would be great. As we were finalizing the sale, I told him I assumed it included delivery, and he informed me that delivery was an extra sixty bucks, but we didn't need that. We had an SUV rental car and, wouldn't you know it, both the mattress and the metal platform came in a box! A few hours later, admittedly after some heavy lifting into the house, I heard the satisfying hiss of our vacuum-sealed new mattress beginning to expand. Let me just tell you, I slept like a baby that night!