I am blessed to have a Victorian bed.  It is made from church pews for both head and foot boards.  It stands higher than the norm because the Victorians weren’t fond of sleeping with the household vermin so the cast iron bedrails were placed well above rat reach.  On top of that height I have a standard box spring and matrices so I’m even higher than the average bed is meant to be.  And I love it.  It’s my own private island.  These days it has been my retreat, my solace, my sanctuary  from the world.  Some day I’m going to have to find the will, the energy, the medication to leave it behind and go forward into the world around me and make a mark or two.  But for now, I know I’m safe in bed.

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