Fresh sheets….

I spoil myself, I truly do. Within reason, of course….
Sleep is so so very important to me. Maybe it was the years of shift work as a nurse? Maybe the years of child rearing? Maybe the twitches of MS and all that jazz…
But sleep, ooooooh. It’s nice. A comfy bed is my happy place. Always when I am asked to imagine such a place, I think back to a room in a hotel in Interlaken, Switzerland, with tall windows opening out over the lake, a cool breeze playing with white muslin curtains, and the BED!
It was all in white. Tall, high off the ground, with box spring, mattress, feather bed (!), bleached white sheets, pouffy comforter and those wonderful square German pillows…
I have only to think of that room, that bed, and my blood pressure drops, my pulse slows, relaxation soaks up my feet like warm caramel.
So I try to recreate that feeling here, in my home bed. I buy myself high thread count sheets and even sometimes iron them with lavender water, so that clouds of fragrant dreams bop around on the ceiling.
The very best time is when the sheets and I are freshly bathed before I slide between them. The window, open, lets a slight chill fill the room. This requires nestling into the comforter, pulling it up over my shoulders.
One foot out, always, for temperature regulation.
Sleep well…