To Duvet or Not to Duvet: The Not-So-Fluffy Side of the Bedding Industry, Part 1

Looks harmless enough, doesn't it?

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Back when I was redesigning our master bedroom, I had a hard time answering a kind of silly question – do I want a duvet? Now, is it important whether we fall asleep beneath a duvet, a quilt, a comforter, or a pile of dirty clothing? No. Of course not. What's important is that we fall asleep in a warm home in a safe neighbourhood where our biggest problems are what type of bedding to buy. I know this. However, there is a dark side to everything – even blankets. Impossible, you say? Read on…

My original reason for not wanting a duvet was that they're lumpy. No, that's not the dark part – I'm still getting there. Every duvet I've encountered in the past wouldn't lay flat and what's the point of making your bed if it looks like there's a bunch of turtles hiding beneath the covers? (Ummm, I love turtles so that would actually be awesome.) I also tend to like myself a heavier blanket. I'm an unsettled sleeper and the weight helps calm me. Not that I've been diagnosed with a sensory disorder, but I sometimes wonder. (Turns out you can actually buy weighted blankets for people with autism, ADHD, etc. I'm intrigued…)

Happy geese doing geese like things - feathers intact.

I looked around for a heavy quilt that I liked, but when I came across the linen-coloured duvet cover from this post at one of my favourite Stony Plain stores, The Country Pumpkin, I began to rethink my duvet disdain. I knew I didn't want a down duvet, because I was pretty darn sure there wasn't a humane way to de-feather a goose. Still, I was curious about the down collecting process and – since I have a un-scratchable research itch – I did some poking around.

Unfortunately, I was right about the inhumanity because the majority of down is collected when the goose is alive. According to this Peta website, "undercover video footage shows employees on goose farms pulling fistfuls of feathers out of live birds, often causing bloody wounds as the animals shriek in terror… Once their feathers are ripped out, many of the birds, paralyzed with fear, are left with gaping wounds – some even die as a result of the procedure." Thank god the images on the page didn't load while I was reading the article, the words were horrifying enough. And while the down industry claims the majority of down is a by-product of the meat industry (meaning it was plucked from already dead birds), this website reveals that a 2009 Swedish documentary found that 50%-80% of down still comes from live birds.

So – no down-filled duvet for me. But what are the other options? Well, there's silk, but – again – how is it harvested? If a goose deserves my sympathy, than a silk worm does as well. As the saying goes, "everything under the sun…"

Click here for Part 2 of "To Duvet or Not to Duvet: The Not-So-Fluffy Side of the Bedding Industry" and please leave a comment below just saying "what's up" or answering these questions… What kind of bedding do you have? Does the treatment of geese or silk worms concern you or is that just me? 

Did It Myself No. 7: Branch Mobile

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Along with catching up on blogging in general, I need to catch up on blogging about all the DIY projects I did before my daughter was born. True, I've been able to get a few homey things done since she came into my life that blessed September day, but for the most part it's been 16 months of laundry, dishes and more laundry (and of course playing!). The laundry sitch has been particularly hairy of late because our washing machine is on its way out (and BTW, this is our second laundry machine to futz out on us this year).

"Three little chickadees, sitting on a
[cancer-infused] tree…"

The first one was nearing that magical ten year mark that somehow in appliance years equals 90 human years, so that was that. Then, we got a replacement free of charge thanks to some lovely family members. Unfortunately, that one didn't belong to said members originally and thus we don't know how old it actually was. And now it's dying too. Sob.

Basically this was just a long winded way of me saying I do a lot of laundry – the clothes/diapers/towels come out of the wash absolutely soaked and therefore must be wrung out before heading into the dryer, yet still take about 17 hours to dry (aka about three trips in the gateway to Narnia). Oh, did I say that the dryer is also now pining for the fjords? So, a lot of laundry doing means not a lot of craft doing because apparently running a household is more important than spray painting stuff. Whaaa?!

And speaking of spray painting stuff… This branch mobile hangs in my aforementioned daughter's room. It's made out of a piece of poplar I scarfed from the land (I really don't think "scarfed" can be used in this instance – it actually makes no sense at all, but I'm rolling with it), some fishing line and three little stuffed birdies I whipped up (using a pattern similar to this one here – I can't find the link for the one I actually used).

The painting of the branch was a bit of a challenge because, as it turns out, spray paint is a horrible, horrible substance and says right on the can: "This product contains a chemical known to the state of California to cause cancer and birth defects, or other reproductive harm." Umm, yeah. And since at the time of spraying I was smack-dab in the middle of reproducing… I made my husband do it. But I really wasn't too worried about him because we don't live in California.

The socks my dryer sends to Narnia are sopping wet. Sorry
Mr Tumnus. I hope you don't get a cold.

The other challenging part of this project, which also involved my hubs (eww, gross, I just wrote "hubs"), was the hanging of the mobile. The fishing line we used to suspend it had to be tied in just the right places so the thing didn't wildly spin out of control. And then the birds also had to be oh-so-carefully placed (causing my husband to declare them "delicate geniuses"). Several times they leapt from the branch  –  I'm assuming in an attempt to fly –  but instead plummeted tragically to the floor.

An observation my husband made after we hung it: "Do you think the baby will be scared? It makes shadows that kind of look like a creepy hand." So far we haven't had to worry about that as she ignored it for most of her first year and only started to notice it in the last few months. Her response? Just like with the curtains from my last post, "oooooooh."

Truthfully, as I said right from the beginning, her room was never really designed for her. It was designed for me. And thank god for that – I've spent a lot of time in there. Almost as much time as in the laundry room.

Psst… You. Yeah, that's right. You. People who visit this blog, but don't comment. Won't you help a sister out? I'm trying to "start a conversation" or something lame like that. So let's conversate. Down below. In the comments. Okay?

Did It Myself No. 6: Blue and Orange Bedroom

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Enough has been said about New Year’s resolutions. I’m not going to add to the cacophony. But I will say this – about myself. I make resolutions all the time. Spring resolutions. Birthday resolutions. Morning resolutions. Sometime I keep them. Sometimes I don’t.

Inspired by a piece of soap. Soap in a dish…
not on a rope.

One of my current resolutions is to blog more. Why? Because I like putting stuff out there, whether I get paid for it or not. Perhaps the current state of social media will be the downfall of us all, but I like that we live in a Pinterest-y world where people share ideas and creativity flows from one home to another.

I often wonder why Pinterest wasn’t called Pinspiration, because isn’t inspiration what it’s all about? Is it too long of a word? Maybe it didn’t quite hit the nail on the head as far as the namers were concerned? I’m sure if I went in search of an answer I’d find it. But I’ve got more important things to do. Like blogging.

The thing I love about inspiration is it can come from the strangest places. Like the master bedroom redesign I recently completed. Would you believe a piece of soap is responsible? A piece of orange soap on a blue soap dish. I looked down at it and thought, blue and orange…  what a beautiful  – and unusual – colour combination! (Even in my thoughts I use en-dashes.)

Kind of looked like a 1990s
dorm room before… minus
the Pearl Jam posters.

Turns out I wasn’t the only one who had come to this conclusion. I found a few jumping-off photos on, where else, Pinterest. One pin in particular convinced me orange curtains were a must, so I headed on over to my new favourite website Fabric Spot. Many hours were wiled away looking at intoxicating prints when my daughter was a newborn and I was trapped (lovingly) with a sleeping infant in my arms. (Yes, I am intoxicated by fabric samples. I lead a simple life.)

When I found this orange and white damask I knew my curtains were nigh. Paired with blue walls (albeit with the deceiving name "Aloof Gray"), a linen coloured duvet cover, orange bird throw pillows and a blue and orange bird-printed fabric, also from Fabric Spot (and sadly no longer available), and I was laughin’. (You know, because I was drunk on my fabric purchases.)

I was not the only one to be oh-so-delighted by my design choices. My daughter, now over a year old, pointed at the new curtains and bird artwork I’d hung overnight (more birds!) and said, “oooooooh.” What can I say? She’s got great taste.

Did It Myself No. 5: Toy Box Ottoman

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Umm... yeah. This is awkward. I know I've been away for a long, long time. It probably seems like I've been avoiding you, but honestly I've just been, like, super busy. You know?

I was actually flabbergasted – yes, my gast was literally flabbered – when I logged in today and realized I haven't posted in nearly a year. I knew it had been awhile, but in my mind it was more around the 5-6 month mark – not 349 days! In fact, it has been so long that I've changed the way I do my m-dashes! You may have noticed they are now bookended with spaces instead of flowing into the adjoining words. And if you did notice then wow. That is like really, really sad. [Turns out, upon further examination, that what I'm now using is technically an n-dash, aka en dash, which is not quite as long as an m-dash, or em dash, but is certainly longer than a hyphen.]

This historic home in Stony Plain, Alberta (referred to as
"Rose Hill" by the locals) was the subject of the first
article I wrote for my hometown's newspaper.

But considering m-dashes [and n-dashes] is actually one of the reasons I've been away. For realsies. I was writing for my local newspaper's real estate section (and I just now realized I totally should've been posting the articles on this blog because, hello, talk about related subject matter). It was within this job that I revised how I use my most favourite punctuation mark (and was advised by my editor that less is more even when it comes to dashes).

Other things that have kept me away from a-blogging are raising a child, raising a husband, getting some short stories published (yay!), doing projects around the house that could then be blogged about (but then not blogging), general and specific merriment, general and specific disgruntlement, and – of course – our dear old friend Mr. Procrastination.

Plus, I now have a new job, which is why I said "I was writing" and not "I am writing" when I mentioned the newspaper gig... teaching dance! I spent pretty much all my "spare time" (my explanation for the scare quotes – motherhood) this summer working on lesson plans and memorizing exercises. I even dedicated an entire seven hour round car trip to watching Royal Academy of Dance videos and meticulously typing up each dance step only to later realize that just watching the videos would've been enough. But I am nothing if not a chronic over-preparer. Which means I don't get a lot done, but what I do get done – gets done really, really thoroughly.

Love this pattern... and it was on sale!
It's actually outdoor fabric, which means
  it's all ready to have water, juice and/or
 milk spilled on it.

Such as the actual topic of today's post – this ottoman! I can't take all the credit for this DIYer as my most loveable and talented husband was the one who actually built the thing, but we did design it together (amidst much ruler waving and pencil scribbling) and I selected the fabric and foam padding and wrapped this bad boy (girl?) up.

As is usually the case, the task at hand was not quite as easy as I initially imagined because we wanted as few seams as possible and I couldn't manage to wrestle all the fabric into my sewing machine facing in the correct direction. The answer? Hot glue gun. It's like the duct tape of DIYing... except duct tape is probably the duct tape of DIYing. So maybe it's the duct tape of more delicate DIYing?

Our only concern with a hot glue gunned seam was that our daughter would pick at it and it would come loose. After all, this ottoman was designed for her. Well, for her and her toys and her soft little baby head that kept smacking into our old solid wood coffee table. But the ottoman has been in service for over a month now and so far she hasn't even noticed the seam.

Shh... The toys are sleeping.

I suppose it pales in comparison to the stuffed animals, books, wooden blocks, plastic tea cups, tupperware and various beeping and booping gadgets the ottoman houses.

We put wheels on the bottom of it so we could move it aside and create more floor space for playing (and also so we could periodically block off areas of the house we don't want her entering, i.e. the kitchen when I'm trying to unload the dishwasher). The wheels have also proven handy in helping her learn to perambulate as she holds on to the ottoman and "walks" when we move it.

Hard to believe the last time I posted she was 4 weeks old and about as mobile as a sack of potatoes. Really freakin' cute potatoes. But still – potatoes.