Yesterday, after a series of stuffy nights, I decided it was time to make the seasonal swap of duvets. We received a gorgeous cotton bedspread for Christmas and it has been staring at us for months. We began to feel a bit guilty about keeping it in storage while we sweat under the winter duvet. So yesterday I pulled the bedspread out of storage and hung the duvet outside to air before it goes into storage.
And then it rained all day. All day. And while I didn’t discover any leaks, the house was a bit cool and damp, so when we crawled into bed I was concerned that I might have jumped the gun with the switch. We discussed briefly and decided that our combined body heat would be enough to keep us cozy, we just had to wait a bit. Really, this means that Pete’s body heat would keep us warm.
Except it didn’t. Or at least not for me. It might have been too much to ask of him, I mean he was sleeping. All night I was waking up, curling tighter into myself and checking that the bedspread was still covering me on all sides. I think it is a weight issue. The duvet has a comforting weight to it. You know it’s still there keeping you warm. The bedspread is so light that I kept thinking it had disappeared in the night.
Finally, at 4, I got up and got a cheap fleece blanket from the living room, wrapped it around myself and then crawled back under the covers. It did the trick. Why didn’t I think of it sooner? And this got me thinking, why is that when half-asleep you can add 9 to any number without issue, but cannot fathom how to get warmer?
Does anyone else experience this? During the day, I can’t add 9 to anything without discreetly counting it out on my fingers, but at 6:47 in the morning when Pete’s alarm has gone off for the fifth time, I can tell you immediately that I have until 6:56 to sleep. It took me five hours of tossing and turning and snuggling closer to Pete and curling in on myself before I eventually got up and got another blanket. Perhaps it has to do with physical activity verses mental activity, but I gotta tell you that my mind can keep me awake more effectively than a mid-night trip to the toilet which includes navigating stairs.
So in the category of seasonal swapping of linens, this housewife receives a fail. Perhaps I needed to check the weather more thoroughly or wait until we were sure that we were in summer (which can be difficult in London, I admit). For now, the beautiful new bedspread is staying, but I am layering a Massai blanket (which is deceptively warm for its thinness) underneath in an effort to avoid last night’s dilemma and perhaps add some reassuring weight. And just in case, I have positioned a second light throw within reach of my side of the bed.