Oftentimes during those heavenly years when we lived in Pacific Grove, we’d take a ride down The Big Sur.
Just because we could.

We did the same thing with Fisherman’s Wharf and Cannery Row…..drove down their streets.
Just because we could.

We never got used to it…..two regular people from a little town, barely big enough to be called a city, down the river from Detroit, living in an adorable little Hamlet-atop-the-Pacific and The Big Sur one hour from our driveway.

We took many Big Sur Sunday drives.
We loved turning down roads we knew nothing about.
There was always something new to learn, like Palo Colorado Road.
If you’ve ever been down that road well, you know.
If you haven’t, try to visualize a deep and narrow canyon, kinda like a “holler” with a bumpy, dirt-road not really wide enough for even one car.
Huge trees arched and reached across to each other like the branches were holding hands.
They made a ceiling of beautiful, lush green leaves over that tight little path-way; so thick that only glimpses of the sun could shine though, making it like driving just before dark.

The very old, teeny houses seemed chisled into the side of the hills and anywhere and everywhere was growth.
The wildflowers were every color, they looked like a big open box of assorted crayons and there were more shades of green than could be counted.
Small waterfalls scattered and trickled down to the meandering creek below which eventually found it’s way to the Ocean.
Being on that road felt like we’d wandered on to the pages of The Hobbit.

On one of our Big Sur adventure days, we saw a FOR SALE sign and decided to follow it.
It took us off beautiful Highway One which followed the ocean and on to a road where all we could see was that we were going up…..way up.

Within minutes we found ourselves among the homes of the fortunate ones.
The ones that live in those ridiculously huge houses dotted along the hillsides.
Those people, the ones with the mind-blowing views who looked down on Pacific and the many shades of blue extending as far as eyes could see.

We pulled over just to take it in and we sat quiet for a while.

The huge, frothy, white-topped waves rolled in one after another and mesmerized us.
The sound was a distant rumble and roar.
The feel was clean and crisp and the smell was that of the salty sea.
It was euphoric to our senses.

The FOR SALE sign pointed upward so we followed it to the very top.

It was a cute little house, nothing special other than the mind-blowing view which made that cute little nothing house a Four Million Dollar Baby.
“A steal,” that’s what the flyer said, a steal!

The realtor was sitting on the porch which ran the length of the house.
She waved and motioned for us to come up.

We parked and climbed the rock steps to the top and on to the porch.

She was realtor-friendly but seemed genuine as well so we decided not to get her hopes up for a sale and confessed we just wanted to see what some can have and maybe pretend for a few minutes.

She invited us to go inside and take a look.

It was small.
The living room was long, narrow and all glass looking out at the sea.
The 2 bedrooms and kitchen were built behind the living room.

Other than the view, the most impressive part of the house was the converted garage which had been made into a great combo work-out-gym and bar.

Four Million Dollars?

But something hit me when we peeked into the master bedroom.
The bed!
I’d never seen anything like that, EVER.
The best I could describe was it was twisted, contorted hammered iron with swirls and waves.
It was love at first sight.
I stood and studied it for a while, oohd and ahhd and snapped pictures from every angle.
I didn’t want to forget even one detail.

Days later I kept thinking of that bed; so different, so unique, so ……necessary to my life!!!
I wanted that bed!
Ya know when something gets into your head and won’t go away?
Well, that was the bed.
I kept thinking of it.

And, I’ll be darned, as fate would have it, it just so happened we needed a new bed.
Honest!
We really did.

That meant I needed to find out WHERE that bed came from.

I had an idea, so we took another Big Sur ride the next week-end.

The driver, was sure we’d never find that road OR that house again.
He, of little faith!

But me? I believed.
I followed the force and there it was but no realtor this time.

We parked, climbed the steps, knocked on the door and when there was no answer, we window peeked.
Nobody home.
I was prepared in case there was no one there.
I taped the envelope addressed TO THE OWNER on to the front entry door.

Fast forward to two months down the road…..or is it UP the road?
I’m not sure of that one, but either way it was 2 months later.

I’d kinda put the bed into my back thoughts and was involved in day-to-day stuff.

The phone rang one morning and when I answered, she introduced herself as the owner of the bed.
She explalined that she lived in San Francisco and only went to her Big Sur house every now and then so had just found the letter I’d left.

(Only went to her Big Sur house every now and then?
I hated her!)

In the letter, I explained that I’d fallen in love with her bed and would she sell it to us or tell us where she bought it.

She said she had the bed custom made just for her and it was not for sale but was happy to send me a couple photos and the name and address of the company that made it for her.

True to her word, a few days later I received the pictures and information.

We took them to our favorite furniture store in Monterey and our favorite sales guy helped us locate the company in Los Angeles and order the bed.

Two months later, that bed was delivered to the Victorian house where we lived in Pacific Grove.

The bedroom was huge so there was plenty of room for that bed AND all the other new furniture I was gonna find to complement it.

One day after I’d made the bed that our grandkids called The Doctor Seuss Bed, I noticed a flaw.
A big flaw.
Why hadn’t we seen it before?
It upset me.

We went back to our favorite sales guy in our favorite store, the one that ordered the bed for us, and told him our sad story.

Bummer!

He contacted the company with our problem and days later their response suggested we take a good look at the photo we’d sent for them to duplicate. They maintained they made the bed exactly the way it looked in the photo. They did, however say we could send it back and they COULD fix it for us but every piece of it was formed by hand and hand tools, so we may not like the end result.

I dug out the picture and sure enough, there it was…..the flaw!
How the heck had we missed that?

Crap!

We thought about it for awhile and finally my very clever husband convinced me that the flaw made it all that more unique.
I bought it.

I think back to that time and what a big deal that bed was to me…..a bed!

So many years have passed now and so much way more important stuff has come and gone but still, every night when I crawl into that bed, I look at the flaw and think how much I love it.
I guess it’s not just the bed but how it came to be.

The flaw?

Let me know if you want a picture of the bed and see if YOU can find it.