My beloved duvet of 12 years in now crammed into an extra large bin bag ready to be re-cycled.
After a week of sweaty nights ( no .. past the menopause and the weather has been decidedly un-summery) , I decided that enough was enough. A small fortune later ( although half price so only half a small fortune) I returned from Bentalls with a replacement . A superior version filled with sumptuous duck down. Oh my goodness is all I can say after my first night under the fluffy gorgeousness.
Cool and yet warm, light and yet weighty enough , moldable and malleable to the perfect body shape. I am in love with all those sweet and fluffy little Hungarian geese for shedding enough to ensure a perfect night's sleep. Bless their not so fluffy bodies.
But there is a downside to this story The impartial journalist in me has to report both sides of the tale. I'm a hopeless romantic and the departure of this 200cm square synthetic sagging sack has left me slightly sad. I've realised that over the last decade I've fed babies underneath it , drank tea and spilt it on it, scoffed midnight snacks and left crumbs in it , celebrated Birthday mornings and opened Christmas stockings on it, watched telly from underneath it, probably cried and even thrown up on it .
A thousand and one memories and now they're all about to be re-cycled into something like roof insulation material ( apparently that's where all our duvets go ). Well at least it will now keep someone else warm and maybe save the planet for a nano second.
Ah yes, like parting from an old friend. However, try to focus on the joys of the new one, which sounds simply divine! Onwards and upwards as they say ....
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