It’s no particular novelty to be getting into a freshly-laundered and made up bed – I’m slatternly, but not that much – but I dislike running the dryer almost as much as I dislike sheets festooned around the house. I generally tend to soothe my eco-guilt and aesthetic sensibilities simultaneously, by hanging stuff up on the airer overnight, and then finishing it off briefly in the tumble dryer before school. Bit of a hassle, but it’s not like I’m busy saving lives the rest of the time.
Knowing what today’s weather had in store, however… I think I had those sheets and covers stripped off before anyone was even properly out of bed. By 8.30am, they were flapping lazily on the line as the shadows in the backyard receded. I didn’t want to remake the beds with linen from the cupboard; much better to hold out until this lot were dry. Tonight, we’ll all sleep with that fresh-air-and-daylight smell, and dream about the summer to come.
Presumably most couples with children take it in turns to stay in bed on a weekend morning? Yesterday, I let my husband have first dibs: I’m not great at switching straight into Relax Mode on a Saturday, as I am too full of thoughts of Stuff To Be Done. So I was up with my earlybird children, making pancakes, stripping & laundering the beds and re-making them with fresh linen, supervising homework and taking them off to swimming lessons while Husband slept off the effects of a long week at work.
Today, my turn. We had dinner at the truly excellent Magdalen last night and a slight dessert wine fug left me very glad that it was my turn to lounge about in bed. On top of that, it was a sunny morning, so my husband took the kids to (and I avoided) the park (result!). Tucked up under my beautiful White Company blanket, a birthday present from one of my dearest friends, I drank Nespresso and admired the blue sky through the windows over my head. And – total joy – it’s a mega bumper issue of the Sunday Times Style supplement today. Bliss!
So the loft conversion has finally been completed and the Great Big Room Changeover has been effected. We’re in the loft, the boys are in what was our room, our daughter is in what was the boys’ room and I am writing this post from her old room, which is now the office/ guest room.
I well remember being six, and the pleasure I took in arranging everything just so in my own bedroom, so I’ve felt bad for my daughter that she’s been squished into the small bedroom for so long, with little space to display her treasures or hang out with her friends. Naturally enough, now that she has a big bedroom, she wants a bunk or trundle bed and sleepovers every night of the week. But a desk was also on her wishlist (blimey but they get a lot of homework already!) as she’s totally into the whole writing in journals/ writing notes to friends/ jotting down ideas phase. Tidying up the other day, I came across two separate notes, one saying “I love my Mama so much I would do enething for her,” and the other reading “my Dada is a DIY disaster and relly relly relly cuddly.”
Anyway, picking up the lamb from Flock and Herd on Bellenden Rd last week, I caught sight of a 50s-style school desk a few doors down at Worn Not Torn, the kind with the flip-top lid. I love these desks; so much more personality and charm than something from the likes of Ikea. It looked like it would fit perfectly within the ‘nook’; we measured, it would. So here it is, in all of its newly-arranged-with-juvenile-stationery-glory. Now she just needs a chair.