Two Fluffy Pillows and a Firm Ending

One of my quirks is fluffy, just-right pillows.  Whoever's watching from those hidden cameras in stores probably gets a good laugh when I go through my ritual of finding the right pillow.  Most of the time, though, I'd get the pillow home and would be disappointed the next morning.  You see, another quirk is two pillows beneath my head.  I'd never found the right pillow to cause me to return to the store to buy a second pillow.

Now, in a previous post, I blogged about the trip hub and I took (from Virginia) to New England. We ventured off the main arteries and spent a night in a simple but very pleasant bed and breakfast in Upstate New York.  When my head hit the pillow, the fluffy whoosh brought a smile.  In the morning, I inquired as to whether I could order this pillow.  I could.  Upon our return, I went on line.  Several days later, the pillow arrived (with free shipping and a discounted price).

I'd thought this pillow would stack beautifully with another pillow I had.  It didn't.  Since the free shipping and discounted price offers had expired, I decided to wait for another sale and another order.

But the Christmas holidays approached, I got busy, and forgot about the second pillow.  Upon our return from Louisiana, hub and I spent the night at a chain motel near a small town in northern Alabama.  It was a long-haul driving day, so we grabbed a bite to eat, and hit the rack.  In the morning, I inquired about the pillows.  Love had struck again.

I smiled from ear to ear when the clerk said there had been so many inquiries, they sold the pillows on site. At a very reasonable price.  I bought two.  The already packed car looked a bit fluffy when we drove away, but never mind, no one knew us.

We spent another night on the road, in Gatlinburg, Tennessee, and drove home the next day.  That night, hub smiled when I stacked the new pillow on top of the pillow from the trip to New England. Since hub likes a firm pillow Home Goods usually carries, he understands.

To my delight, the combination worked.

The other night, though, the day didn't slip into a contented sigh when my head hit the pillows, like it usually did.  I worried a bit.

You see, I'd read a post where the blogger had poured her heart and soul out: about the time and energy she'd put into each post, but received few comments; about how she'd left comments on other blogs but few had commented back; about how her optimism had faded and she'd found another venue that satisfied more than blogging.

She'd also turned off the comment box.

Quite honestly, I was floored. The gal has a super blog with a large following.

I've felt a bit unsettled since - probably 'guilty' is a better word.  I haven't left comments as I should.  True, I've caught every bug that's come my way since January and didn't always have the energy to zip around like I usually did.  And, to be very honest, when I did have the energy, life appeared (meals to cook, house to clean, errands to run, my WIP), but the point is, I could have done a better job of visiting around.  I know that.

Like my two fluffy pillows, blogging requires the two of us.  We have to fluff together to feel the oneness.  I can't fluff all the time, but I'm going to fluff more.