There was a time when I really didn't like anything vaguely resembling housework. Not only didn't I like it, I didn't do it, I had "help". But that was in those days when I rushed through life looking, but not seeing, and wondering why I never felt like I had my own space. Now I have a much more relaxed life and I think about what I do. Now I see what we all think of as "housework" as something other than a chore that has to be done. Now I look on housework as that time I take to make my space comfortable and clean; it's like feathering my nest.
The ritual of bed making is something that sets my day up for all that follows. Sleep is very important to me. I LOVE sleeping and if I don't have enough sleep, I can't function properly. So it makes sense to me to make my bed as comfortable as it can be. I think of my bed as a nest - a great big comfy nest that has to be attended to every day.
So the pillows are fluffed up, the top sheet and quilts stripped off and each layer is replaced with precision and care. The end result is a comfortable bed that smells clean and feels warm in winter and cool in summer. When I change the sheets, the bedroom smells of sunshine. It's winter here now so I have flannel sheets on the bed and an extra patchwork quilt my sister made. It's nothing fancy, and I don't want it to be perfect, I just want it to feel nurturing and warm when we fall into it at night, and I want it to sustain us until we wake again the next day.
