A 'Bed-Jacket' Kind of Night

There are nights when I realize, too late, that I have done too much with the day. I get an inside-out sort of chilly feeling, as though my body temperature has actually lowered. It is nights like these, that I call a Bed Jacket Kind of Night. I don't know how many women of my generation even wear bed-jackets, or know what they are for that matter. But I have several. One beautiful lacy one, that was reserved for the birth of each of my babies, and one that is soft and worn pink and white and flannel. When I am feeling curly-uppy and in need of stacks of books and shut draperies, I slip on my Bed Jacket and everyone knows it is Mom's quiet night.

Oh the stack of books that I have added to my winter reading pile. If...if I dared to show you the picture I took of them the other day, you my dear readers, would gasp in horror. They are sliding hither and yon...little quaint quote books splat on top of Big Fat Early English dictionaries. Herbal cookbooks mixed in with Biblical scripture. Brambley Hedge stacked next to 5, yes count them, 5 wonderfully hardbound and promising Victoria Holt novels. (Those were to be my sincere attempt at a winter's rest).

This sliding, tipping, sloping, frequently kitty-cat-toppled pile of books is WHY I wish January and February would start all over again. There is no physically possible way, short of doctor's order bed rest, that I will ever get through all these juicy tomes. Ah well, there's always next winter.

Grab your favorite wool blanket and a book and do a little reading for me, if you'd be so kind?