Always ethereal, always eclectic, I write as the mood strikes, when there intrigue reveals itself. Usually that means something controversial or adventure of some sort.

I've tried really hard to be unprovocative, but have as yet been unsuccessful.

Monday, 17 September 2007

Nice. Soft. Pretty.

When you come back from an extended time of living overseas, I don't think a lot of people realize how little you have. Most of your furniture was given away or sold or lent and disappeared, long before you went overseas, and even that which was stored is sometimes difficult to track down. So it was with great joy that I inherited an item from Aimee, since she just got married. After a year of sleeping on a fold-out couch, I now have a real bed!

Last night I slept on it. I had forgotten what they were like. Beds are soft. And they don't have big bars in the middle of them right where the small of your back is. I like beds.

2 comments:

quaintance said...

You make me want to take a nap right now. Or loan you furniture. But I live in the Bay Area and still am not ready to part with any of the stuff I have.

drh said...

So you now have a place to lay your head!