Comfort

Ophelia nestles on not one, but two sleeping bags, piled up on the sofa after their use by an overnight guest. It never ceased to amaze me how she, and Ruby, are magnetically drawn to soft, squishy, snuggly places to rest, patches of warmth and roast chicken.

This picture, taken by my housemate, reminded me of the story of The Princess and The Pea.

And I am thinking, as I sit here, typing in a peculiar and uncomfortable position because of the clutter on my desk, which would take just a few minutes to tidy away, or even a few seconds to dump into a pile on another surface which I am not using, how willing I am to tolerate discomfort.