Autumn night

There is a night every autumn when the bed looks like this before I retire for the night.

I love this duvet cover. I’ve had it for the better part of 40 years, purchased after spotting an ad for it in what we used to call the colour supplement of the Sunday paper. (Does anyone, I wonder still use this term?) The colours have dimmed, the fabric is now tissue paper thin, but I hope it’s still got a few more years. This has been my summer duvet cover in flats in London, Toronto, Vancouver, London (again) and now here. It’s even gone travelling with me.

A week in a cottage in Wales.

One of the lovely things about that week in Wales was having a skylight over the bed and being able to stare up at the stars after turning off the light. Really wish I could afford to have one installed here.

A birthday weekend in Paris…

… spent in a flat with this view.

In other words, it’s been around.

Anyway… At some point in the middle of that particular autumn night I wake up, not sure why. Do I need to pee? Maybe. Think about it some more. Oh, I know why I’m awake. I’m cold.

When I get up in the morning, the bed looks like this… 

… after I’ve gone into the linen cupboard to find a quilt. (I also pee, just in case.)

That autumn night was last night.

The summer weight quilt has now been swapped for the super cozy winter one. When I retire tonight – and for the next several months – the bed will look like this.

This is a relatively new addition to my bedding collection, a patchwork cover with flannel sheets for winter, made by me about 10 years ago. This cover may not have the same history, but the bedside lady lamps do. They’ve been around for 40 years, too.

I suspect this particular autumn night might have been a few days later if I was still using the woodstove, but that’s another story.