Dorothy Brush "Random Thoughts" Published Jan. 15, 2003

The ups and downs of down

When the weatherman warns an arctic blast is headed for the Plateau, I have no fear. I know that at bedtime I will be cozy and warm enveloped in my down comforter. My appreciation of those fine, soft, fluffy feathers called down evolved over a long time.

Before credit cards, cash was needed for purchases. Before HMOs, family doctors made house calls. In that long, gone time young women had hope chests which they gradually filled with fine linens, silver and other items in anticipation of the day when they married their Prince Charming.

In my hope chest was a treasure I found on a table of marked-down items in our leading department store. It was a down comforter. I had never heard of down comforters, but it felt so soft and was so pretty I found enough money to buy it.

By the time I married, I realized it had not been such a good buy. The cover was a slippery taffeta-like material, and most of the time the comforter slid off the bed and onto the floor. My understanding of down comforters lay in the future. However, that original, although unused, comforter went with our family each time we moved.

Years later, our youngest daughter traveled to Germany to be with her soldier husband and, eventually, we decided it would be a good time to visit the old country. We found a special deal on an airline which flew from New York City to Luxembourg. There we could take a train to Frankfurt.

When we opened the door to our hotel room in Luxembourg, I was horrified as I looked at the bed. It was covered with a rumpled something that looked as though the bed had been slept in and not changed. On investigation, I saw it was a lofty down comforter.

The next day, we arrived in Germany where our kids met us. In their apartment, we found a down comforter on our bed. Daughter introduced us to all the good features about this European bed cover. They were an important part of every household, and each morning they could be seen airing and fluffing outside in the fresh air.

At that time, down had not hit Americans' fancy. We had enjoyed the warmth and lightness of the comforter so much I decided I should buy one in Germany. I went to the store alone, although I spoke no German. The clerks did not speak English, so I had to look until I found a table piled high with comforters. I was educated enough by that time to know I also needed duvets to slip the comforter into. To get the full benefit of down, the comforter replaces the top sheet and is right next to your body. A duvet can be removed and laundered just like a sheet.

Next came the problem of transporting my comforter back across the ocean. My hanging wardrobe case was the answer, but it wasn't easy stuffing the mass inside and zipping it up. After that feat, there was no way it would fold so I had to carry it flat.

When I arrived at the customs desk in New York carrying the bag which looked as though it held a body, the inspector took hold of the zipper. I casually mentioned it was a down comforter, and his hand froze. I was sure he had visions of the air filled with feathers. He waved me through.

I think of that amusing scene each time I snuggle under that wonderful down comforter. As for the original that went into my hope chest, I finally carefully removed all the down and put them into a big pillow, so it is still with me in a different form.

· · ·
Dorothy Copus Brush is a Fairfield Glade resident and Crossville Chronicle staffwriter whose column is published each Wednesday.