On Saturday mornings we lie in bed or at least I do, I shove hubs out at about 8 something to put the kettle on and pop the pain au chocolat in the oven. He beetles back to bed to wrestle with the 25 tog goose down comforter. What is a 25 tog comforter?
Tog is the density of comforters in Europe and now in England, we didn’t have comforters when I was growing up, eiderdowns and counterpanes, but nothing that could be shaken and floated onto the mattress and pass for making the bed.
5 tog is summer weight, 13 tog is Spring and Autumn and 25 tog…well 25 tog is bloody heavy is all I can say. It’s hot too, despite the northerlies that blow and the radiators that are cool, we sleep with the windows open and the covers off for some of the night, especially when the electric blanket is still doing its job.
The comforter weighs us down and making it, forget the graceful fluffing, that can only be done with a summer or spring weight, takes two to heft the monster back onto the bed from the floor where it has fallen in the night and straighten it out.
When the kettle boils hubs returns to the kitchen to make coffee in our cafetierre, a much more reliable fresh brewer than the coffee makers of America.
We have special cups for all our beverages, at least I do and confuse my hubby, but he has our two coffee ones down. Tall rustic looking mugs in hues of blue and brown but he can’t tell them apart. He pours the coffee and waits for me to claim my mug. I do, so that he can tuck into his croissant without wondering if he will take his first sip out of the wrong cup.
This morning I raised my cup to my lips and it was half full. Unexplained tears sprung to my eyes.
My mother would insist her cup was filled to the brim, I think I made my father’s drink the same way but don’t know how he really preferred it.
I like any drink of mine to be a long way from the top of my glass or cup.
I think I want room for the aroma of the coffee to rise into my senses.
Or depth for the fennel and chamomile herbs to release their full bouquet.
I also want to be able to finish my drink and have another, and for it not to cool down too much because I’m taking my time.
Whatever the reason, the fact that hubs, after 20 some odd years of marriage poured me a cup of coffee exactly the way I like it caused unexpected tears to flow.
He heard me at last!
The Lord be praised.
Well hello there! My name is Vivienne McNeny.
I am an empty nester exploring life as a Boomer…you could say I'm happily Boomering along!
As a homeschooling Mum I have finally quit the job of role model and mentor to my four children. I do what I want to do, eat when I feel like it, enjoy life with my blue eyed cowboy and clean my house once a month or so whether it needs it or not!
In true English form I write about the emergence of my true identity now that I can no longer hide behind my children as their Mum.
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