As Autumn has clanged shut as unceremoniously as a cast iron gate at the end of the show when the last round has been cashed up and the bouncers gone home, I find that winter is not very conducive to the writing of “day making” type antidotes.
I have been struggling to find a topic worth glorifying.
So as I was driving to work this morning with my misted up windows and dodgy heater, I tried to think of what is the happiest constant in my every day right now. I realised that I know exactly what it is! Without a doubt, the happiest random happy making thing in this life right now has got to be my down duvet!
Leaving bed in the mornings is like being torn from the arms of an idolised lover, only its harder because whereas lovers have their flaws and can be reasoned with, my duvet is perfect and doesn’t understand my leaving. It stays huffed up at odd angles where I have left it, beckoning. I choke back a tear as I cast a last look at it (while trying to find my missing cell phone between the folds) before I leave the house. In my head I hear Dave Grohl singing “I’ll be coming home next year”. It’s all very emotional.
If the truth be told I am thinking about it all day long. When my mind wonders in mid-winter I am not thinking about grand adventures, oh no, I am wishing I was home under my soft down duvet. To hell with what the doctors say about my allergies! If you had to ask me at any given point on a grey weekday what I want to do this evening/weekend the answer would be embarrassingly simple. Maybe I am just getting old. Maybe I just have the worlds greatest duvet.
You see it’s genuine down. My duvet is softer than any real life thing has any business being, and yet it’s not fuzzy. I don’t do fuzzy. The outer layers are smooth and cold to the touch, at first. But as you wrap yourself up in its majestic thick cotton folds you quickly realise that any action that would ever cause you to leave it would be a grave mistake. It warms up organically. Not like the overheating sweaty fuzz of electric blankets and microwave huggers. Oh no! Down reaches the exact perfect level of warmth and stays just there. It’s a beautiful thing, really, far too perfect to be synthetic.
The most wonderful part of a winter’s week day is after you come home, feed and bath the beloved chidlers, finish off the days work and have a shower, get into the cotton PJ’s and (finally) succumb to the duvet.
I love it more than (several) people I know. It certainly gives me more joy! My only regret is that I don’t get to spend more time with it while I am actually awake to enjoy it. It seems a great loss to spend such fleeting moments of consciousness in the presence of my best beloved personal little comfort.
I hope that all who read this today will take it to heart and give their own special duvet that little bit of extra quality time this weekend. You know your beloved deserves your attention too.