There is something to be said about fuzzy socks. Especially for days when it’s a little chilly or damp and you want to curl up and be comfortable. And let’s not forgot about how lovely they are when we spend a lazy, cool day, reading.
You may say I have a thing for fuzzy socks. Hugs for your feet and legs to my way of thinking! And who doesn’t want hugs for legs and feet on cold days or nights? Although I will confess I’d rather that no real hugs take place when it comes to my feet and legs!
So today, I tossed on my fuzzy socks, grabbed a book and ignored the cool drizzle outside. Because it was the perfect conditions and timing for fuzzy socks, an e cel lent story and letting the rest of the world slip away. Temporarily of course!
The four-footed one was in agreement with me, although she doesn’t have fuzzy socks. Instead she likes to rest on my fuzzy socks. While my feet are inside them! And no she doesn’t read either. She’s just along for the lounging effect I think. Which frankly is amazing all on its own. Add it with the fuzzy socks and books and you have incredible comfort! Which is what today ended up being!
When I was a young child I had a favorite blanket. This blanket was my go to item when I was cold, or in need of comfort. Heck with this blanket I was comfortable around strangers and all.
I hadn’t thought about this blanket for years. The only reason it crossed my mind today was when I curled up with a comfortable blanket to ward off the chill I was feeling. And as I curled up with a comfortable blanket, the four-footed one joined in and settled in for a rest. We read, while technically I read and she napped and time slipped away, but we didn’t care because we were warm and comfortable.
Frankly, if I could have, I would have spent longer with the blanket and the four-footed one, blissfully spending time doing what we wanted. But someone needed to go outside (hint, it wasn’t me) and when that someone was done being outside, she felt the urge to run around the house. Don’t ask why because I’m pretty sure she did it just for the sake of doing it. And after that there was no going back to the blanket. How do I know? Because I tried dear friends, I really did.
The four-footed one had rested enough to build up energy for play time. And so we did. At some point the blanket was on the floor and we were playing on it. So I guess that’s almost the same because regardless of whether we were on it, or under it, we were blanketed by its comfort.
Are you a list person? Do you write lists to start your day? Do you return to your lists throughout the day to cross of the items you have accomplished? Perhaps you are a list person, but keep the list in your head, checking out items off your list as you go.
I am not a list person. I have tried to use them. I write lists for things I need to buy or things I need to do. Inevitably when I need the list, I don’t have it with me or I go from memory. Thankfully my memory is pretty decent so I end up doing what needs done, buying what needs bought without the assistance of the lists. This drives Beloved crazy. Partially because he is a list person.
Beloved lives for lists. From what he needs to do for the day, the week, the month, to which books he’s going to read and in what order. He never shops without a list. He doesn’t believe in going into a store and simply buying what catches his eye or his fancy. Need a new phone? He will do up a list for the phones you are thinking of buying with the pros and the cons all sorted out. That way you have it right in front of you and can make the purchase with all the facts.
Recently Beloved wrote a list of things we needed to get done before the Christmas break. Some of the items were minor, but some were rather large. Some of the items were things I didn’t even know he had on a list. Anyway he wrote this list and stuck it where he would be able to see it, in this case the refrigerator. And all was good as far as getting some items completed on the list.
He crossed off items as we finished them and he was rather pleased with himself for the progress that was made. And then he decided to clean the kitchen. And in cleaning the kitchen, he lost the list. Yes the list was lost. The world came to a stand still for him and in his panic he asked me if I had grabbed the list. (I hadn’t.) When his panic settled down, I asked him if he had managed to take a picture of the list on either his phone or his tablet. Thankfully he did. And the world was right again because the list is back to save the day.
Have you ever just gotten into bed and sank deeply into your mattress? So deep that you aren’t sure if you will ever get out again? Now I’m not talking about a mattress that is needing replaced, I’m talking about the perfect sinking after one of those days.
The other day, after a day that never seemed to end, I crawled into my bed and felt the mattress pull me into a deep, warm embrace. I just let myself sink until I could sink no further. And for a brief moment I wondered how I would get back out of the bed. But it was fleeting.
I woke up still feeling as if the mattress was holding me in a loving, warm embrace. And I seriously thought about just staying there, the mattress and I almost melded into one. Except the dog needed to go outside and there is this odd thing called work that insisted I attend to it.
Surprisingly, I had no trouble getting out of the mattress and on into my day. I wouldn’t say the day was better because I sank into bed. It was just different. And of course there was no repeat performance of the gentle sinking into the mattress the following night because that would be too lovely. But if any of you know how to make the mattress do that again, I’m all ears!
Some days you just have to give in and have that slice of pizza or two. Or perhaps it’s a day that just calls for a slice of cake. Some days, these are the only things to get us through. We shouldn’t feel guilty about giving in to this once in a while.
Today was a pizza day for me. Well okay, if I had thought it through more closely cake might have been the answer. But pizza worked. So yes even though it’s not ideal for me to consume it, I tossed caution into the wind and had pizza.
Friends, I was bold. I was fierce. I ate two slices. I know, shocking. But I refuse to feel guilty about this. It was a rough day. Pizza was a healing balm after a day with many hiccups and issues.
Beloved partook of the pizza as well and there is plenty left for him to munch on later on if he so wishes. I have had my pizza fill for a good while now. Now cake, well cake may be another issue. Come to think of it chocolate may be used as well. But not now. For now I am in a place of contentment. And I refuse to feel guilty about reaching for one or two slices of pizza. I also refuse to feel guilty for making the choice to have pizza based on the day I had. Besides, I know it’s not ideal with lupus nor the medications I take. But it’s not the end of the world either.
What does it take for you to feel secure and safe? Is it a number of locks on your door? Perhaps an alarm system in your house that is set to all your windows and doors. Maybe it’s a large dog to keep watch. Or perhaps other humans pulling watch duty in rotation. Then again perhaps it’s just the right address, on the right side of town on the right side of tracks. Maybe that’s all it takes for you to feel secure and safe.
There was a time when it was nothing to feel safe. Just knowing certain people were there to take care of me, chase the monsters from under my bed and do all the worrying about the big stuff. Of course as I went out to explore things a bit more beyond the comfort of home, it took different things to feel safe. Such as walking in a group when it was dark, and the lighting was poor. It was knowing that I could run to safety if needed. It was looking the door, slamming a dead-bolt and securing windows.
But when you have been harmed in some way, it may take more to feel safe. It may take a village of sorts to help you feel safe and secure. Frankly after a traumatic experience I literally wanted a bolt hole or priest’s style hole. Just some safe place, hidden, that I could lock myself into if needed to avoid harm and such. Of course, I didn’t get it. And over time, and a lot of rethinking of things, I was able to come to terms with the violation of my space versus what happens to some people. But do I feel safe and secure? Not always. Not always even if Beloved is home.
The four-footed one is a master at curling up into a tiny little ball and falling into a nice sleep. I have been envious of this skill for a while now. Well not so much the curling up into a little ball. Other than when I’m in severe pain. Then and only then do I want to curl up into a wee ball so I can roll around like an armadillo.
It is, instead her ability to fall asleep that I’m envious of. She can sleep regardless of where she is. Guests in the house? No worries she can still curl up and be dreaming. In the car? Again, curl up and let the sleep come. Visiting friends? If there’s a place to curl up, she can sleep.
Me? I can’t sleep if the sun is up. Unless I’m very sick. I can’t sleep on trains or planes or any place public. Hospitals are a nightmare for me because they expect you to sleep, but there are strangers walking in and out of you space. It’s public. It’s just not possible.
I struggle to sleep in hotels, other people’s houses. It isn’t because I’m not sleeping in my own bed, although that helps. Rather it is a number of things that get in the way. For some reason all of that seems public or unsafe places to sleep. Regardless of how tired I am I struggle to sleep or find pleasant dreams.
Ah to curl up, to dream, to sleep. And so I still try. Maybe if I turn around three times before I settle down…