March 13, 2017 by phicks2012
I’ve never been able to sleep on hard mattresses, even as a child — and in fact I can clearly remember tossing restlessly as an infant on my hard crib mattress. As a child I had an old, sagging mattress that I loved, and when my parents replaced it I was unable to sleep unless I also used about half-a-dozen pillows.
For years the mattress industry taught us that “firm” was “best”, but that didn’t mean I could actually “sleep”, or even “relax” on a firm matress. For me it was like lying on bare concrete, and when the sites we used for SCA events started using thin mattresses on top of boards rather than springs, I started having to haul my own foam rubber mattress along to use at events. It was either that, or bring a load of pillows — or just not sleep.
I was — and am — the same with chairs. If they’re hard and unyielding, I won’t use them unless they can be padded. My desk chair “the throne” isn’t super-soft, but it swivels, and leans back, and is MUCH more comfortable than any other desk chair I’ve ever tried. My recliner though — well, that’s another matter! I love my recliner, even when it isn’t reclining.
Whenever I want to curl up with a good book or to watch a good movie, I want to do in in my recliner — especially in the winter when I can also curl up under a down comforter or a sherpa throw — or both. Then, surrounded by warmth and softness, I feel as though I’m being hugged and protected and comforted. With no “person” to make me feel that way, sometimes I need that.
So here’s a verse, more or less in praise of my chair. Why not!!!
It will probably be included in my SCA Newsletter as well. Again, why not?
Soft and Warm
In Winter when the fierce winds blow, and ’round the halls go howling;
When window panes with frost-webs glow, and winter-wolves go prowling;
When frozen daggers downward hang from eaves all glazed and shining,
Then shall I curl before a fire, in warmth and peace reclining.
Within the soft and warm embrace of father’s chair, protected,
I close my eyes and fear erase, by harsh cold unaffected.
As though held in my mother’s arms, or still enwombed, euphoric,
I drift away from fears and harms, in cradle metaphoric.
As long as I may shelter there, beneath draped downs and fleeces,
With warmth and softness all around, the touch of cold decreases,
And I in utter peace may drift, where fear may touch me never,
And loneliness be set adrift on frozen seas forwever.
[25 February, A.S. LI, 2017]