Last night while laying in bed, it occurred to me that pillows are a wonderful thing, and new, soft squishy pillows are even better. Have you ever noticed how a new pillow, even the cheap $5 ones from StuffMart, can make you smile, and snuggle down into the bed and feel grateful? Well, maybe you don’t. Maybe your pleasures are more complicated than mine. I love a new pillow. Or even a freshly washed one that had a bit of bleach in the water and sat in the sun after a toss in the dryer. It’s comforting, and in these trying times when diseases are trying to eat us and the economy is iffy and Wall Street is doing it’s scary thing, a lovely soft clean smelling pillow is about as good as it gets, after a long day…..
why is that car slowing down in front of our house? that is the 3rd time it’s passed by. Next time it goes by I’m getting Madge to keep handy. Madge is the .357 Himself gave me for our Anniversary. Now, there’s a confident man, to give his wife something called The Peacemaker for an anniversary gift.
Anyway. Pillows. Do you make a nest when you sleep? We both do. 7 big pillows on the bed, 4 for him and 3 for me. I tease him a bit about being kind of prissy about his pillows, because he has to have Certain Ones That Are Just Right in order to be comfortable and sleep well. This wonky one fits between his legs, that memory foam one goes tucked under his arm, these 2 under his head, one to the right overlapped a little by the left one. I’m no better, really. 2 extra long ones and a feather filled one, that I have NO IDEA where it came from but danggumm it’s comfortable. I used to think feather pillows were an affectation and all pretentious…not anymore. If they weren’t $100 a piece I’d replace all our pillows with them, but $700 for pillows seems a little extravagant. Maybe one day, but not today. It takes us about 10 minutes to get settled, because I have to mess up the system by attempting to make the bed reasonably pretty with a balanced layout and shams and all. And if I put some to the side at night, because they’re only for pretty and not for use, Agnes McCalvinox*accuses me of self indulgence for owning useless pillows.
These days, going to bed is my favorite time of the day. The preparation for it, that winding down in the evening is wonderful. Himself and I, now that it’s cool, sit on the patio and indulge in Adult Libations and conversation, going over events of the day and hashing out situations, solving the world’s problems if only everyone would listen. There’s the rituals of face washing and toothbrushing and pill taking and pillow fluffing and (noneofyourbusiness) and settling in under the covers. now that it’s cool enough to leave the windows open and put a blanket on the bed, there is a comfort to it that isn’t there in the Summer heat. There is something about snuggling down under a blanket your grandmother made, wrapping up in long memories and soft cloth someone wore so long ago, a comfort and sense of peace settles down and calms any anxieties because it says “Rest now, I’ve got this for a while. You sleep.” Getting all the pillows just right, smelling the clean linens and feeling that crisp cotton pillowcase, cool and not yet nasty with drool because your nose is stopped up….I had to go there because you know it’s true. I am getting over a cold and grateful pillows have 2 sides so you can flip them over when one side gets damp. Ew.
I’m kind of like Daisy, our fat dachshund, who starts watching the clock around 7:45, looking for that long hand to be straight up or the double zeros maybe, and watches us, hoping to hear those wonderful wonderful words “Bedtime, Daisy!” to which she replies by making a mad dash (well, as dashy as a fat dachshund can get, it’s really more like an enthusiastic mosey) to her crate, and joyfully flopping down on her big squishy pillow. I know it won’t be long before we can both flop down on our own pile of squishy pillows and pull that old, soft quilt over our heads and sleep. Wonderful stuff, those pillows.
*Agnes McCalvinox is the voice of disapproval that lives in my head. She shoots down any desire for frivolity, whether it’s a pretty throw pillow or a bright scarf or a stack of Oreos. Sometimes I can stuff her in a box but occasionally the cat lets her out.