Annie Dear: The scramble to hunker down for the cold
I know I cry this bemoaning sentence every year – but where did autumn go? Oh sure, we had a gorgeous stretch of beautiful weather there for a while, but, well, Fall – fell rather precipitously.
We’re supposed to have three months, Mother Nature, not four and a half minutes if you don’t mind.
Oh well, she sighed. Now the duvet is on the new mattress, my sign that winter is indeed coming.
While I’m on the subject of the new mattress, it’s taken a bit of getting used to, it not sagging like my old one, but if you have a couple of children – I’d say around 6 and 4 years of age ought to do it – to lend me for a couple of hours, they could come and jump on the bed (with or without shoes) and it would give me the "give" I’ve been looking for.
The other thing I’ve been looking for is an electric blanket. Now this to you is one on top of the body. The one I’m looking for, as I’ve discovered, is a heated mattress pad – one that gazunda, so to speak.
In the old, old days back in Sydney I had one which secured itself to the bed by way of tapes being guided under the mattress to tie up with the short buddies on the other side – this naturally involved a great deal of strenuous behavior to wrestle the tapes into a correct position.
I was therefore delighted to see that the new post-Adam & Eve version comes in a fitted variety, so it will stay put on the bed. Winner, winner, chicken dinner I say.
But – isn’t there always a "but" – I am either having a senior moment or a mental conundrum.
Once the fitted bottom sheet goes on top, where do the controls for the beast come out? Surely this would render the fitted sheet not quite as fitted as one would like, and would thus lead to a phenomenon brought to my attention by my darling friend, Ellen – of Sparky and Ellen fame.
“Sheet action” is not a desirable thing at all. If your fitted sheet sprongs on a corner, you end up with a lump of sheet under you – not conducive, I think you would agree, to a restful night’s sleep.
When I make a bed, I would make any drill sergeant proud. My sheets are so tightly tucked that not only could you bounce a quarter off them, even a limp dollar bill would spring to attention. So it grieves me, in advance, to think I might end up with sloppy sheets.
There are a million heated mattress pads out there – ones which require a certain amount of yoga fluidity in attaching thereof that I couldn’t even contemplate it; those with the controls in the right place, but the wrong length, and those whose controls are handily dandily located at the foot of the bed.
Nothing like getting chilly in the middle of the night only to have to get up, fumble around in the dark, turn the thing back on, and suppress your expletive-deleteds in the meantime.
So dear readers – please let me know if you have indeed found a winner to this puzzle – I’m getting desperate.
Annie Dear lives in Lee’s Summit. Email her at firstname.lastname@example.org.