Menocursination [me-no-cursin'-eh?-shun] the condition of verbal puzzlement.

The bed saga continued...

The trip to Edinburgh, you will recall, resulted in purchase of a bed.  In saying that of course, those of you who noted that said purchase was from the Big Swedish Furniture Barn will also surmise that 'bed' means a box of bits. Plus extra bits external to box, which are intended to match those boxed contents.

Are you keeping up?

Having had to enrol two sturdy young blokes to assist with the lifting of the purchase from storage and then into the father's car, the dear old parent was clearly turning the mental cogs on the journey back to his house.

"Leave it where it is," said he, "I shall drive you back to Dunoon and we'll sort it there."

Bless him.  I didn't think he was that foolish.

The drive over was fine.  We left early, arrived in time for lunch.  That out of the way we applied my plan of opening the box and bringing the bits up as they fell from it.  This worked.  The father would not rest.  Straight into the construction we went.  Now anyone who has attempted to read the line-drawing guides of the IKKY people will have some idea of what ensued.

All the connecting bits and bobs were inventoried.  All present and correct.  Let us begin.

The head-end sides first for attention with hammer and plugs. Even that stage fooled us as we had to get oriented as to left and right and which way was up...

...but we got there and then it was attachment of the headboard.  Now there were bolts and those very special, IKKY-only designer nuts with one-tool-fits-all turning implement.

Fathers with Parkinson's and daughters with dodgy knees ought not to be allowed near these things.  It is an established fact that whole families have been driven apart over the building of IKKY business.

Then again, with adjusted attitude it can lead to increased bonding.

The trouble can lie when the standardised pattern begins to become self-evident and then the line-drawing plans are put aside.  When the designer nuts suddenly don't conform and stick their little grey heads above the joint things become worrying. 

Fraught even.  Sudden departures to hardware stores to obtain hand drills and wood-cutters take place.  Only to return and discover the opposing nut is also 'proud'. Can they have made a design flaw, these IKKY magicians?  Oh well, a bit of jiggling proved that the original offending nut could indeed be held in place and corresponding bolt fastened tight. Onwards it was.  Till the very end.  Literally; the bed end appeared to be short two nuts. How could this be?  We counted them at start.

Lo!  What are these two silver, smaller, nuts for then?  Mercy me, could it be?  Yup. Reading the plans all the way through would have served us better.  These were the nuts intended for the shorter bores into which we jiggled the 'proud' nuts.  

Father and daughter look askance at each other.  Laughter ensues and bonding occurs. Solution is unspoken.  Use these silver nuts in the deeper holes with the same amount of jiggling used earlier.  

Easy really.

Then comes the bit for which all hands were required so no photographic record.

The laying of the slats.  Only to discover the helpful young brawn had provided us with the baby cot size.  Narrow.  By 10cm.  Several attempts were made to try and stretch the wood.  This was of course, pointless.  But it had to be tried...

Just as well daughter had already said she was driving the father back to Edinburgh that very night.  Just as well daughter had made special placement of receipt in wallet.  Just as well the Big Swedish Furniture Barn never questions the whys and wherefores.  Sunday morning exchange was made.  Now there was just the getting of the larger, heavier slats back to Dunoon.

On public transport...

(to be continued)