Unless otherwise attributed, all content, text or image, on this site is © TaunaLen 2005-2011.
All rights reserved. Republication or redistribution is prohibited without prior written consent.

Monday, February 25, 2008

Luxury Linens--The Truth and the (Pillow) Sham

Hotel bedding is the eighth wonder of the modern world. Well, maybe the eighteenth. I don’t know. But I do know that I love the crisp white sheets, the down-filled comforter, and the perfect hotel pillows. I love that that bed was made early and has had all day to sit, in smooth, wrinkle-free perfection, until I climb between the sheets and search for the cool spot with my feet.

This weekend, we slept in a hotel bed. It was perfect from the foam mattress pad, to the 400 thread count sheets to the plush comforter, the piled-high pillows and the embroidered coverlet. And to think that I didn’t have to make that bed, didn’t have to wash the sheets, didn’t have to tuck the sheets in and smooth the pillows. I could just fall into the deep sea of blankets and pillows and sigh.

It was wonderful---for the first couple of hours.

Then my back realized this wasn’t my bed. Something about the comfy, plush mattress wasn’t quite right for my shoulder muscles, didn’t really suit the small of my back. I woke, turned, found the cool spot, and dozed again, but the sleep was just not as deep and restful as I hoped it would be. Maybe it was the strange room, maybe the fluffy pillows, but something was definitely amiss.

So, last night when I had loaded the laundry into the washing machine, and packed away the luggage, I pulled back the comforter and 350 thread count sheets on my own bed. I thanked my daughter, for having made it earlier that morning in my absence, and I slipped into it, happily. The cool spot was right where it should be, like I’d never left, and the pillows fit perfectly beneath my head and shoulders. I was home, and so happy to be---though I did fall asleep with visions of a beautifully embroidered coverlet dancing in my head. I wonder if they come in the same color as my pillow shams?

It’s wonderful to be home.

Friday, February 22, 2008

Assailed by Agenda

A new calendar sings a siren song to me. The clean lines and empty squares call to me---wooing with promises of efficiency, discipline and triumph. “You too can be organized. A schedule will simplify your life; and you will be happy.” I know the song. I have swayed to the melody many a January and February afternoon. A dulcet voice croons in my head, “Fill your days with activity, you will achieve so much more.” And though I know the tune is just a fairy-tale sung to lure me onto the rocks of disappointment, I fill in that planner, use colored pencils and stickers, categorize and arrange.

It is a work of art. And when it’s finished, I feel a rush of adrenaline, accomplishment and competence. Then after a few days, or maybe even a full week, my color-coded masterpiece is no longer the thing of beauty it once was. It has become a demanding task master, and I revolt, refusing to let it stifle my creativity. So, I crumple the page and scatter colored post-its across my desk top. I write notes about doctor appointments and bills to pay on napkins and the back of a grocery store receipt. I realize that no matter how alluring an organized calendar may seem, I will always thrive on the variety and chaos of a messy, half-structured system, where I may be confused, but at least I’m still the boss.

There was an error in this gadget

Friends who Follow

FeedBurner FeedCount

Friends I Follow

  • Deadlock Victim - Rerun the transaction. Another process claims the same resources. You have been chosen as the deadlock victim. It’s nothing personal. The optimized queuing ...
    20 hours ago
  • I See - I see a woman Desperate to keep faith to an Absent man of war. I see a lone man Rejected by a woman Long lost long ago. I see a couple Sitting in a dark co...
    1 day ago
  • Together by Ree - As a mom’s children get older and bigger and more mature and grown up and start leaving the nest, she starts to live for the times when everyone is togethe...
    1 week ago
  • The Big Boo Cast, Episode 74 - Well, we start off recounting some difficult times we’ve experienced in excruciatingly hot conditions. Our passion about this topic will surprise approxima...
    3 weeks ago
  • Every Flower Is The Rose - Lovers jump into bed without thinking. That's the only way it can be done. A cup that was spilling over still wanted more. We all talk to ourselves. Thos...
    3 years ago
  • The Search - Through the darkness wandering, silent footfalls upon the ground, guided by lantern glow and the ambient light of a thousand-thousand stars piercing t...
    3 years ago
  • Moving - With writing novels, editing for friends, and writing blogs, I am moving my new poetry posts to: NEW SCRIBBLES
    4 years ago
  • What Are Blurbs? Do I Need Them For My Book? - Wow! So now that my debut full-length collection of poetry, *Solving the World's Problems*, has found a home with Press 53, I imagine more than a few of my...
    4 years ago
  • Why Write? - Writing and the possibility of connection in an isolated, isolating world. Writing as part of what keeps us human, and alive.
    4 years ago
  • Apu, the chai walla... - This poem is for Apu, this ever-smiling 10-year old kid who sells chai on Platform no. 3 and 4 of the Pune railway station. “Chai Garam ! Chai Garam!” ...
    6 years ago
  • City Poem - I walk a city Where my steps leave no trace, A city whose nights are birds Picking on the breadcrumbs of memory. I walk by trees anointed With smells heirs ...
    6 years ago
  • Happy Birthday - Independence Day 2008 Berkeley, Ca Forgive my dark mood and my languid determination. The process is skipping All fingers point To a funnel with Pompous exe...
    7 years ago
Unless otherwise attributed, all content, text or image, on this site is © TaunaLen 2005-2009.
All rights reserved. Republication or redistribution is prohibited without prior written consent.

  © Blogger templates Romantico by Ourblogtemplates.com 2008

Back to TOP