Old Age has its Foibles

One is allowed to be eccentric when one reaches a certain age. I remember my Mom telling me 'only old men and babies are allowed to belch'!! (they said belch in those days not burp!!)

Not that that is my particular idiosyncrasy, but I definitely have an obsession with cushions. Yes cushions.

My vertebral column needs cherishing, it has been my cross to bear since I fell off my horse aged 14!! But that aside, it means I have a healthy respect for cushions of all shapes and sizes. I can spot the exact cushion I require for my personal comfort, the minute I enter a room. A cushion in a car journey is obligatory, (the road to Binga requires more than one these days).... but a rolled up jersey will do if I am desperate.
Qatar has the most pleasing tiny disposable pillows these days on a long haul flight, and they can fit perfectly purloined into my hand luggage.

Consequently I can spot an unacceptable pillow instantly, and I have an unhealthy aversion to overstuffed pillows and spend hours wrestling with pillow kapok, unstuffing my own designer cushions.

Then there is that new fangled designer fashion that requires large cushions to be karate chopped into a certain shape. Definitely not a happy shape, cushions man-handled in this new design look like replete cats' faces with pointy ears!!

My eyes swivel instantly in restaurants, hotel foyers and the like, to establish if they are designer or boutique hotels. We were at a gorgeous hotel in Sweden once and there was a lady whose sole task in life was to wander round the hotel karate chopping the cushions!!