One-a-Day Photo Challenge
Day Eleven:  Where You Sleep

This is it. This is where I sleep.

It's also where I spend my last waking hour each day, reading and, frequently, because my cholesterol medicine is to be taken with food, nibbling a short stack of unsalted crackers, washing them down with a caffeine-free Diet Cherry 7-Up. (I can eat crackers in my bed anytime, baby.)

I love that last hour of the day when the house settles down. The TV is off, the dogs are asleep, and the sounds that seep in from outside are mostly pleasant ones: the croak of tree frogs, the hoot of an owl, a distant train whistle, or maybe--especially lately--a steady rain.

It occurred to me to make the bed before I photographed it today, to pile on the pretty shams and tatted-lace throw pillows you can see peeking out from the corner of the photo. But I don't sleep with those pillows and, to be honest, I don't always make the bed. Sometimes I just close the door.

The pictures on the wall behind the bed are my own water-lily photos, enlarged and framed last year as a thoughtful gift from my stepsister, Donna. The white object hanging by a cord over the headboard is the temperature control for an electric blanket, a 2012 Christmas gift from Kim. On the nightstand, all within arm's reach, are books, tissues, a clock radio, a lamp, a TV remote control, and a telephone. On the chest of drawers is a jewelry box that belonged to my great-aunt Hazel, a lovely antique glass dish that was also passed down through the family (Mammaw's, I think), and two dark cherry-wood boxes, one containing Kadi's ashes, the other holding Butch's. Their collars and tags rest on top.

I like this room. It feels good to me. When I lie in that bed, the reflection I see in the tall mirror hanging on the closet door is that of an old woman who is happy, safe, and contented.

Where do I sleep? I sleep in serenity.