It must be that this prolonged cold with the heavy snow over the weekend and sleet coming tonight and more snow on the way this weekend has finally triggered my hibernation instinct, and no, I’m not suffering from Seasonal Affective Disorder, but these last few nights something clicks when I walk into my bedroom–and no, it’s not any rickety part of my body.

After a day of wrestling too many words into paragraphs about kids’ activities in Richmond, many of which I loathed when my kids were little, though to be fair, some of which I still find fun and worthwhile on my own (see if you can tell the difference when the Kidstuff chapter is done), one word rises up into my brain–BED.

Such a simple word, bed. The B suggests softness and comfort, the short E is all flow and ease and the D instills the word with firmness, the way I like a bed. Such a nice word. Such a nice place.  Bed.  Brain synapses seem to be shutting down. Flannel also good.  Apparently I’m reverting to a cavewoman with much nicer bedding.  Bed. Chair in front of computer just doesn’t have the same ring to it. Damn.

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