There's been some decidedly unseasonal nest-feathering going on in the Hebden hacienda recently. I say unseasonal because I generally regard n.f.-ing in the same way that Cole Porter thought of pitching the woo...not a summertime pastime...when it is, it has to be said, too darn hot. Yet my leg incarceration is stoking the flames...I want fluffy pillows...comforting blankets (the very thought of which induces heatstroke)...and, slightly perversely, "proper" shower curtains. None of that printed vinyl...I want ticking-striped cotton duck... |
And now I want them, too.
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