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I feel like I'm being eaten by a thousand million shivering furry holes
Following my hapless duvet's misadventure on Saturday I have been receiving various queries as to its state of health and wellbeing. Rest assured, it is fully recovered.
We left our hero, the duvet, sitting a bath of soapy water. I subsequently attempted to rinse and ring it out.
At some point last year I wrote in this journal something along the lines of "there is nothing so recalcitrant as a wet carpet". I can now report that I only made this statement on account of my lack of experience with wet king-sized duvets.
Things get heavier when they get wet, OK ? A wet king-size duvet can absorb approximately my body weight in water. It then sits, sullenly, in the bath damming up the water and refusing to let the liquid at the non-plughold end to drain out. Attempting to move it requires fairly good body strength, and a certain lack of regard for the dampness of one's own person.
After much wrestling (and indeed sitting on the thing) I managed to get it wrung enough that I could manage to lift it - hugged to me, and dripping all over me. There then followed a period of extreme indignity while the duvet and I wrestled in the garden. I thought it was going to go over the two washing lines, and drip dry. It thought it was going to flop wetly about, slithering off lines, onto me, and if at all possible, back onto the lawn.
After some minutes of this free and frank exchange of views, I won. The duvet ultimately retaliated by still being dripping wet on Saturday night, thus causing me to have to do the whole carrying around/getting wet/wrestling thing several more times. It finally stopped dripping around Sunday night, and had only just now agreed to get itself into a state which could reasonably be called dry.
Hollowfibre quilts: lovely and toasty warm things, great if you're allergic to feathers. But they're merry hell for drainage :(
While I've been quiltless, I've been sleeping under The Ocelot. The Ocelot is one of my favourite possessions; it's an enormous, double sided fake-fur blanket, one side patterned like an ocelot. However, it's spring and that seems to be moulting season for ocelots. My bedroom and everything in it has been slowly disappearing under a tide of fluff over the past two days.
However, now all is well. The Ocelot has returned to its usual place at the bottom of the bed, the quilt is reinstated. I have, this evening, hoovered my bed (though I did not follow through with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
zandev's suggestions of other handy household tasks - I neither mowed the bathroom nor pruned my housemates).
All is well with the world again. On with the rest of the evening.
On an irrelevant note, I'm getting carried away with this unknown hero business. The Designated Hero of the Week is again someone I've never met. This week my hero ismpinna, without whose help I wouldn't have got Glastonbury tickets. If anyone would like to point him out to me, should we be in the same location, I promised him a pint.
An honourable mention also toj4 for ticket-related assistance rendered (and for not laughing at me too much when I demonstrated that I couldn't use a phone correctly).
We left our hero, the duvet, sitting a bath of soapy water. I subsequently attempted to rinse and ring it out.
At some point last year I wrote in this journal something along the lines of "there is nothing so recalcitrant as a wet carpet". I can now report that I only made this statement on account of my lack of experience with wet king-sized duvets.
Things get heavier when they get wet, OK ? A wet king-size duvet can absorb approximately my body weight in water. It then sits, sullenly, in the bath damming up the water and refusing to let the liquid at the non-plughold end to drain out. Attempting to move it requires fairly good body strength, and a certain lack of regard for the dampness of one's own person.
After much wrestling (and indeed sitting on the thing) I managed to get it wrung enough that I could manage to lift it - hugged to me, and dripping all over me. There then followed a period of extreme indignity while the duvet and I wrestled in the garden. I thought it was going to go over the two washing lines, and drip dry. It thought it was going to flop wetly about, slithering off lines, onto me, and if at all possible, back onto the lawn.
After some minutes of this free and frank exchange of views, I won. The duvet ultimately retaliated by still being dripping wet on Saturday night, thus causing me to have to do the whole carrying around/getting wet/wrestling thing several more times. It finally stopped dripping around Sunday night, and had only just now agreed to get itself into a state which could reasonably be called dry.
Hollowfibre quilts: lovely and toasty warm things, great if you're allergic to feathers. But they're merry hell for drainage :(
While I've been quiltless, I've been sleeping under The Ocelot. The Ocelot is one of my favourite possessions; it's an enormous, double sided fake-fur blanket, one side patterned like an ocelot. However, it's spring and that seems to be moulting season for ocelots. My bedroom and everything in it has been slowly disappearing under a tide of fluff over the past two days.
However, now all is well. The Ocelot has returned to its usual place at the bottom of the bed, the quilt is reinstated. I have, this evening, hoovered my bed (though I did not follow through with
zandev's suggestions of other handy household tasks - I neither mowed the bathroom nor pruned my housemates).All is well with the world again. On with the rest of the evening.
On an irrelevant note, I'm getting carried away with this unknown hero business. The Designated Hero of the Week is again someone I've never met. This week my hero is
mpinna, without whose help I wouldn't have got Glastonbury tickets. If anyone would like to point him out to me, should we be in the same location, I promised him a pint.An honourable mention also to
j4 for ticket-related assistance rendered (and for not laughing at me too much when I demonstrated that I couldn't use a phone correctly).
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Your valiant efforts have benefited Livejournal's Tuesday night greatly. Thank you.
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I've been cheering you on silently from the sidelines having had a similar experience when a ginger tom took a fancy to my king-size duvet and decided to claim it for his own as only tom cats know how ^_^
Alas, my duvet won the battle with the whirly-gig hands-down:-/. I ended up lugging it sopping-wet to a drier at the local launderette which had a very thirsty slot ...
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We actually had to hang our quilt cover out to dry indoors a few days ago - winter is starting to think about turning up sometime.
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I tried hoovering The Ocelot as well, but it seemed to be enjoying it about as much as you'd expect a cat to enjoy being hoovered, so I stopped.
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