There is ice and snow again outside. Winter is back. Not on any dramatic Narnia levels, but snow nonetheless. I different whiter view for me.
Life on the sofa has improved in the sleeping department, a great step forward if I dare use any sort of walking analogy here. So what is the improvement? I got some – sleep that is, (steady there; what a naughty mind you have if you were imagining anything else!) and what a difference it makes.
As I am holed up in the living room these days my choice of sleeping surfaces is somewhat limited, the chair or the sofa. I opted for the sofa and have tried to make a sort of nest out of it. Alas my sofa is not of the deep squashy variety so beloved of advertisers the world over showing people snuggled up watching movies, eating chocolates etc. Mine is an old Victorian drop-end horse hair hardened less-than-comfy made for two people job. The fact that my friend Carrie covered it in lovely patchwork several years ago has made it rather beautiful but it has done bugger-all for it in the comfort stakes.
I have extra pillows on it and two floor cushions piled on the drop-end to elevate my foot. You can at least now lie down flat on it. I’ve been using a variety of throws for warmth at night but when the stove goes out the temperature plummets and I end up shivering on my sofa island wishing for my duvet. I cannot have the duvet as it is way too big and would cause a major hazard with my weighty foot/wires etc and the horrible thought of getting tangled up in the damn thing.
Last might I spied an old metal chest in the corner, did I remember correctly but could there possibly be an old quilt lurking in there? Imagine my joy (oh I’m so easily pleased these days!) when I found a gorgeous antique red and white handmade quilt that used to appear on the spare bed for magazine photo shoots and was always forgotten when anyone came to stay. I dug it out and added it to my nest of throws and blankets. Just the weight of it kept all my other warmers in place during the night and I didn’t shiver once.
Oh the excitement, the joys of warmth and comfort. We take so much for granted these days. It’s not until you are deprived of a simple item (your bed for example) that you suddenly realise just how much you rely on its comfort. You expect that comfort and anything less seems like a deprivation in our pampered world.
I am meant to be writing while lying here. I am meant to be being constructive and putting together a new book. Am I doing this? er no, so far my time has been spent whining, moaning, demanding and generally making a nuisance of myself to anyone who comes in to listen to me. In the absence of people I inflict my views on Minou and Finzean and of course on you dear reader out there in blogland.
Today I shall do something useful………..