How long does it take to button up an altar cloth?

How long does it take you to button up your duvet cover?
10 seconds?

I suppose it depends on size, number of buttons, whether you do it on your own…

I think there are about twelve on ours.
It’s a big one.

Why did we choose buttons?
Why not pop studs?
Or Velcro?

No, not on ours… It had to be buttons.

I am finding buttons, especially duvet cover buttons, quite hard at times.

I find it quite hard to thread things too.
This summer I put up some screw eyes in a wall outside for wire to support a plant.
A few days later I found that I had missed a couple of the eyes with the wire.
Just can’t always line things up.

So, to the bed.

Once a week we gather around the altar and prepare for our ritual.
She on that side, me on this.
We look at each other across the gentle undulations
Where peace and tranquility usually settle.
And I gather my strength and resolve
And promise to do my very best
To fight the good fight
To smooth every wrinkle
And button every button.

And I really do do my best.
Really I do.

(How shall I describe this?)

You know the side with the slit holes, opposite the buttons,
Is that the female side?
(In the plumbing trade the male end inserts into the female end.
Why would it not?)
Well that side, like on a shirt, folds in on itself in the wash
So it’s doubly hard to find the slit.
You out your shirt on and then can’t find the slit holes because they have hidden themselves.

Those buttons…
I can’t get my fingers around the things.
And my fingers don’t always move as delicately as they once did.
Then the slit won’t open.
The cloth is folded where it shouldn’t be folded
The slit isn’t where it should be
I can’t get the button sideways to slot into the slit.

So I go deliberately slowly.
And just try very gradually to manipulate the male and female
Till they line up
And slot together
Like things in life are meant to.
Especially male and female things.
(No offence, just plumber talk)

She moves to her third and pulls the cover over
So I miss the slit that I have just about lined up
And sigh a little
And start again

My hands are clumsy, slow,
They don’t line up

So she does ten, and I do two.
And I sink to my knees and laugh
Cos really that’s all I can do.

We get it all done.
We can go to bed tonight.
No wrinkles.
A nice crisp, dry, warm bed…

for my Donezepil nightmares.

Oh the joy that is dementia.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s