Every time I change my sheets I think of my friend Kim, who has far more exacting housekeeping standards than I do. (She was slightly horrified to learn that I don't change my sheets every week. Since that conversation I try to do it more often, but... not that often.)
But when I do put in the 10 minutes (minus washing & folding) to change the sheets, that feeling when I first get in between lovely cool crisp sheets is heavenly. One of the nicest feelings around.
I'm back from a trip to the West Coast, having trouble remembering what day it is. (This morning seemed like Friday, this afternoon like Wednesday.) So I'm going to bed with a podcast and belated Christmas knitting (socks for Mom).
An unrelated photo from my December trip to New York: