I love my bed

 

No this post doesn't include anything about sex. I may discuss personal stuff in my blogs, but not that.

It is about how much I love my current bed as well as others I have slept in over the years.

In another flat, when I was recovering from chemo treatments, I spent most of my time in bed with Tummy, the landlady's cat, by my side. He would appear at the window, his mouth open, meowing, which we couldn't hear. As soon as we let him in, he took up his position as my comforter until evening.

During that period I read a lot, researched my book Lexington: Anatomy of a Novel and helped my ex-boss with his book Busted, about his experiences in prison, a good man goes bad goes good again story.

The photo at the top of the blog is of another bed, the one in France. We've brought out our Korean mink in preparation for chilly nights. We have the electric undersheet to prewarm the bed. 

Something is wonderful about putting on PJs at night, slipping into the warm bed with a book, my husband and the dog. We read, we cuddle, we talk. It is especially lovely when the Tramantane blows or the rain makes its own music on the skylight.

After a bathroom trip in the middle of the night with my feet on cold tiles, getting into the warm bed is a secondary pleasure almost as great as the first time each night.

When my husband snores, he has a device that stops it. He only wears it when needed. I often wonder if George Clooney, Brad Pitt and heart throbs from any era snore(d).

Mornings, my beloved husband brings me a bowl of tea. Lazy cow that I am most mornings, I will stay in bed and read while he takes the dog for his morning walk. (In Geneva, I am more apt to go with him at least every other morning. The country- side is so beautiful.)

I hope that the last minute in bed is the only traumatic moment of the day when I throw off the covers and put my feet on the floor. It seems lately there's one trauma every day usually related to some electronic thing reminding us "they" are in control.

Not a morning goes by do I forget how many hundreds of thousands of people in Gaza, Lebanon, Ukraine and other places around the world do not that this luxury. May I never take it for granted.

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