Tuesday, February 17, 2009

My Secret Addiction

Every morning is a struggle to get out of bed.

I'm thrilled the girls are on term break, I get to lie in every morning now. It's not that I'm lazy, it's the, well, the bed.

Large enough for me to sprawl out in as I tend to do, perfect sheets, four....count 'em four...pillows, a wonderful feather comforter, a mattress form pad--and--the undersheet electric blanket.

What a perfect invention for this place, for any place! I almost want it to be the beginning of winter again! The entire surface of the bed is a lovely, toasty perfection of warmth. I don't have to curl in on myself or put another dog on the bed to be comfy... I am lying in a cocoon of wonderfulness, tempting me to stay put all day.

No icy regions lie at the bottom, where my foot might slip and wake me up with a shiver. No spots of cold lurking in case I roll over. No, it's all lovely.

And, with that, I'm going back to bed to read. After I move Cat off the middle of the bed.

He can find his own heating blanket, and leave mine be.

Our Neville Fact:

When Margaret was on her Adventure, and Our Neville was posing for a nude, he often had to temper his thoughts of the future with Margaret while under his hood, else they find they'd need more clay to sculpt him. A lot more clay.


Solomon said...

There's nothing quite like a nice warm bed. Nothing at all. :)

quin browne said...


Cormac Brown said...

"He can find his own heating blanket, and leave mine be."

Ah, how long have you had cats? You know that you have that backwards, at least using feline logic.

Heh-heh-heh, she said "more clay."

the Constantly Dramatic One said...

A lot more clay huh? Damn these people have became characters in your hands.

austere said...


its all right, you may well wonder at the grin.

Anonymous said...

Glad that you are enjoying that perfect bed; you deserve it.

More clay, heh? (chuckle - chuckle)