Confessions of a serial pillow plumper

You know how our little idiosyncrasies tell others more about ourselves than we would normally care to clue them in on? Well, I've kind of always wondered what the addictive sport of pillow plumping says about me. After reading this last sentence, you'll probably be wondering what I actually mean by the term addictive in reference to pillows but, before I get to explaining this to you in luxurious detail, a few simple facts.

This house, within its eight main rooms, has a grand total of (cue the drum roll please) 33 pillows or cushions (I use the terms interchangeably) scattered over the surfaces of chairs, sofas, armchairs, beds and floors.

This number, does not take into consideration normal sleeping pillows. That particular number is in upwards of 12 or more as I firmly believe that most decently raised people need at least two pillows per person to get a good night's rest though three, would be eminently preferable. All together then, we've got on or around 45 pillowy appendages in this house. According to my husband, that's 44 too many but, the purpose of this post is not to illuminate you on the vagaries of my husband's cushion preferences but to explain my own obsession with them. I love cushions and I bet you are more willing to believe this truth now that I've brought you up to speed on the hows and wherefores of our cushion-minded existence.

To continue then, the sum total mentioned above does not even include the cushions stored away in closets and hidden in the nooks and crannies that I like to believe my husband knows nothing about. You see, every once in a while, I like to rotate my cushions. I live by the credo that cushion rotating not only preserves the life and shape of the cushion but that it also renews the visual interest of the furniture we own. In my book, a good pillow is like a good shoe and no sofa or chair is complete without it. Please see the A little bit about me post to better understand my shoe philosophy and how shoes parallel the cushion matter.

OK, we're finally getting to the pillow plumping part but first, I have to clear in your head whatever mental image you are forming. No, we are not chintzy people. No, we have no rose or flower prints anywhere here and no, this place is neither decorated in a harem style nor in a nomadic-tent-like fashion. Also, we are not tripping over the darned things all the time. My husband might dispute this last statement but he is dead wrong. I happen to believe that my cushions are tastefully and strategically placed and what I think is what truly matters in the end, don't you?

Anyway, here's the plumping bit. Should you find yourself here in my home at any time in the future, be prepared to live with the fact that as pleased as I am to have you sit or lie anywhere in this place, I will almost invariably (and automatically) plump any cushion your erstwhile sitting bottom or reclining back has had the pleasure to un-plump. Yes, in my book, un-plumping is an action verb.

This compulsion of mine has become sort of a running joke amongst the dwellers and visitors to my place. I can live with that because I recognize that plumping must be done in a particular way. My way to be exact. The zippers must be hidden, the corners should be perky, all patterns must face correctly and last but most important of all, a perfectly eye-balled karate chop indentation has to run straight-down-the-middle of the cushion. I can't stress enough how terribly important this last point is, an indentation made askew totally ruins the neatness factor no matter if all the other list points have been keenly observed. You see, there's a science to this and I am very good at it. Everyone else here fails miserably at the task because no one has a love for the art of pillow plumping like I do. My husband is not only indifferent to the whole issue, he would happily see all my beautiful pillows consigned to a burning fire but then, decorating and color are not his forte. I have forgiven him this and so should you!

Note to the infidel who does not worship at the holy altar of pillows and their perfectly plumped existence: Please, spare me the eyeball rolling at this post. I care for the inviting look of my sit-upon furniture as well as your back comfort even if you, do not. I think this concern says only nice (nutty my husband clarifies) things about me.

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