My husband calls me 'Moo'. He says it's better than calling me a 'bloody cow'. I've had the name for years and I adore it. This is not about funny nicknames though, it's about 'Moo's bed'.
I lurv my bed. It's my safe haven It's the place I feel most 'at home'. It's the place I go to when the world 'wobbles'. I have often in the past stuck my head under the pillow in order to 'hide' from the world and feel safe (specially in my childhood). Haven't had to do that for many years though.
It's warm, snug, comfy, relaxing and soothing. And, as an extra bonus, I share it with Neil.
It's warm, snug, comfy, relaxing and soothing. And, as an extra bonus, I share it with Neil.
My pillow is soft, and just the right height. The duvet is draped just as I like it, as I do the draping, not too much on my side, not too much over the edge, not too much on his side, just right.
I don't have satin sheets, or spectacular colour schemes, in fact my bedroom is very ordinary. No head board at the back of the bed, can't stand those things. No phenomenally gorgeous, outlandishly priced linen, just my usual slightly faded set with the little blue and white flowers, also slightly faded. The walls are painted light cream and have a few bits of art on them, the one of the District Six in Cape Town and the other sea scene in faded pinks with a battered old boat on a desolate beach (both originals, done by African artists and bought on the street from the artists themselves). I do like original art, and have a few more dotted around, all bought or given to me by the artists themselves, including Steve's oil painting he did.
So, here's my ode to my bed.....
' When I'm feeling blue, all I got to do is take a look at you, then I'm not so blue....'
Okay, so it's not an original song, so what?
