Pillow talk

For Christmas we got new pillows for our bed, nice ones from the manufacturer Høie of Scandinavia. They are so called “downfeel”. Not real down but really comfortable. A few weeks ago, when I was in a spring-cleaning mood, I had the bright idea of washing them. Weather permitting, we usually hang our duvets out over the veranda railings to air them every morning, but the pillows mostly stay in.

You know what it’s like when the sun is shining and there’s a nice breeze; everything feels so clean and crisp, – and I just wanted the pillows to be equally sweet smelling and lovely. So I stuffed them in the washing machine. It was amazing what an effort it took just to get the two pillows in there and there was no way I could fit anything else inside.

I happily set the wash cycle for 130 minutes and left to do other things. What I didn’t think about was that when pillows are wet they are not so voluminous. They became two thin but very heavy lumps. The washing machine didn’t like it at all. It started waltzing around the floor in the laundry room and that somehow prevented the spinner from working.

When I came to collect them, they were still soaking wet. My dream of resting my head on clean, fresh smelling pillows evaporated. They would probably have to drip dry for a week before they could even be put in the dryer.

Hubby came to the rescue and secured my comfortable sleep (as he does every night) when he managed to fix the washing machine. It was a few hours job he hadn’t bargained for but with the help of a few select oaths, he took it in his stride.

The other day I found something pillow-related that I had indeed bargained for but had completely forgotten about. When looking for something in a drawer that isn’t much in use, my eyes fell upon some pretty green material wrapped carefully in thin paper. It wasn’t until I unfolded it and found that it was two silk cushion covers that I remembered that we had bought at a market in Hong Kong last year. I must have put them away until I had found a place for them, and then promptly forgotten. That happens to me all the time. It wouldn’t surprise me if there are ten more cushion covers hidden away at the bottom of some drawer. It not for nothing that I think it’s fun to read about Rebecca Bloomwood. Not that I’m a fully fledged shopaholic but I will admit there has been the odd time when I have returned from the shop with something that has been put straight to the back of a closet.

Now, however, the spring-like fresh colour inspired me to put the cushions on our dark leather sofa, where they complement our green easy chairs in a fantastic way.

In a bookshelf above the sofa lies another oriental bargain who looks like he really could do with a pillow. Buddha has been lying there, resting on his elbow, since I brought him home from Thailand more than ten years ago. His composed, relaxed look reminds me of how nice it is to put one’s feet up and meditate for a little while.

Hmm, come to think of it, I think I’ll grab a silky cushion and do that right now.