Ribbed for her pleasure
In June 2005 we went to Sitges with a few friends. Our flight was very early in the morning, so we spent the night before at one of our travelling companions in West London and shared a cab to Heathrow.
He kindly gave up his bed for us to sleep in. That is when we discovered the lightest, cosiest, fluffiest duvet on earth. We called it The Cloud, commented on it the morning after and mentioned it every now and then to him.
He very generously bought us the exact same duvet and gave it to us on my birthday last week, as a housewarming/Christmas/birthday present for both Dr B. and myself. It is an expensive duvet.
The Cloud is slightly larger than our current bed linen, so we went out and bought a new duvet cover, washed it, speeded up the drying process artificially because we could not wait, slipped it on the duvet, got ready for bed and went to sleep like kids the night before Christmas.
Once in bed, we realised that the tiny ridges of the cover's intricate woven pattern rubbed uncomfortably on our bare bodies every time we turned.
I hardly noticed it, and quickly fell asleep. Dr B.'s first words this morning were something like 'We are getting additional - softer - sheets'.
I may not sleep many hours per night, but when I do I am blessed with the deepest, soundest slumber I can think of.
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