So Many Pillows on the Bed

I had settled down into what I thought of as a monastic look. It wasn't quite that austere really, as I had both a tri-pillow and a pyramid pillow for sitting up in bed, but both had plain, pale pillow-cases and were neatly over my side of the bed. The other side had an absence of pillows, just an old towel for the nights when my cat might deign to sleep with me. Although queen size, this bed was clearly occupied by a single person only.

(The photo only shows my side of the bed, though you can also see the near end of the striped towel.)

I noticed my pyramid pillowcase looking thin and worn — not surprising after 30 years! I couldn't buy any in the local shops but found them online. They were expensive, and meanwhile I noticed the pillow itself was getting uncomfortable. I discovered it had become riddled with mould! So out went pillow and pillowcase into the rubbish.

At that point, a friend offered me back some big cushions I'd once passed on to her. I knew they would match my doona cover, and thought I could put both on the bed for decoration. I could then use one to prop myself up in place of the pyramid pillow. Friend pointed put that the covers were thick and tough, not soft for leaning on, and mentioned that the foam cushions inside were falling apart, held together only by the covers. I found that the cushions were indeed not very comfortable, but thought that must be due to the lumpy insides.

Idea! I dashed off to buy two of those big, square Euro pillows, meaning to use them inside the cushion covers. I bought pillowcases for them too in case they didn't fit in the covers, knowing I could return those if necessary. I wasn't thrilled with the colour choice, but hastily settled for a sort of dark beige as the least ugly.

The cushions were also quite old. When I unzipped one to take out the innards, the zip broke beyond repair and the innards tore apart in several places. I noticed that the cushion cover was not wearing very well. It wasn't worth replacing the zip. That lot went into the rubbish too.

That left me with two new Euro pillows and one cushion for decoration. I wasn't game to try dismantling that cushion! And anyway I realised by then that my friend was right: the pillows were nicer to lean on as they were. Unfortunately I'd taken both pillows, and the pillowcases, out of their packaging before I bethought me that (a) I didn't really need more than one and (b) navy would have been a better colour choice. Ah well.

I couldn't cram all these pillows and cushions over to one side of the bed. Even when I spread them out, it all looked lopsided — until I fished out 'his' old tri-pillow to put behind the Euro pillow on that side of the bed, after putting an ordinary pillow underneath it first. So I now have two full sets of pillows for lying and sitting, plus a cushion in front to pull it all together — and of course my toy tigger on top.

I realise the beige pillowcases will look good with my summer bedspreads, whereas I do need to get navy ones for winter to go with the doona cover. His tri-pillow always had navy pillowcases, whereas my larger one had off-white. (These items we brought separately, from previous households, when we began living together.) I might be so radical, after all this time, as to buy navy ones too for 'mine' and beige or white for 'his', so everything can be matched in every season.

Suddenly, precipitately, I have spent money I couldn't best spare to acquire things I didn't really need, and am looking to spend even more. Too late, I realise I could have nested the smaller tri-pillow in front of the larger one for sitting up in bed, and could have used the two cushions merely for decoration (if I hadn't gone and wrecked one of them by now).

However, the Euro pillows ARE much more comfortable than any other option, so what the heck. (Though, of course, I would have been fine with only one.)

What fascinates me is that I made all these hasty, ill-considered decisions, in a bee-in-the-bonnet kind of way, and ended up with a bed that looks as if it's ready for two people.

Two people will be using it in August, when friends who are a couple come to house-and-cat-sit while I'm away visiting family. But I didn't, of course, do all this for them. Bed pillows plus tri-pillows each would have been perfectly fine — for them as for me.

Perhaps it's a reflection of the shift I've recently experienced. Yet it's a bit odd. I no sooner get really comfortable with being self-sufficient than — in an apparently thoughtless, albeit driven way — I create something decidedly un-monastic!

What are you trying to tell me, Subconscious? (And if it's what I think it is, aren't you jumping the gun?)