Strange Bedfellows

Quite a few years ago, I went with my brother Ken and his son Kenny Jr. to a hunting camp in Potter County for bear season. The cabin had three rooms. One room held the kerosene heater, cook stove, sink, and a foldout couch. Another room held two bunk beds, while the third room was set up as a living room with a couch and recliner chair. The first night at camp, I was so tired. The other beds were taken and I was relegated to the living room recliner. The other hunters said I wouldn’t be able to fall into sleep and stay asleep because the other hunter assigned to that room snored.

I was so tired; I didn’t care, dropped off almost immediately, and slept soundly through the night. After the second day of trudging through the hills of northern Pennsylvania, I felt weary and thought I’d have no trouble sleeping, but I was wrong…someone had moved a saw mill into the living room. The loud snoring almost pulled down the ceiling tiles and the paint from the walls. I tried to shut out the sounds with a pillow over my head, but to no avail. The irregular breathing and loud snorts didn’t allow anticipation of the noise. Finally, I could stand it no longer. I gathered my bed linen and headed for the foldout couch. I rousted my nephew and told him to scoot over. Three people tucked into the couch were very tight, but t least I was away from the locomotive-like snores. The snores could still be heard, but a wall separated and dulled all but the loudest snorts.

My mom Sybil Miner Beck would tell the story about my grandmother Rebecca Rugg Miner. She was taking care of one of my cousins while the mother was in labor. The cousin nudged Gram while they were sleeping together and said, “I’m scared. I hear something.” Gram said, “I’m here. You’re safe. Go back to sleep.” After several times of being wakened, Gram asked, “What does it sound like?” The cousin said, “It sounds like a piggy, Grandma.” Gram said, “That’s just Grandma snoring. You’ll be just fine. Go back to sleep”