(A picture of Ivy by Richard Masoner)
Someone mentioned to me the other day about having read under the bedclothes with a torch when they were a child. Gosh, how that took me back.
How many batteries I must have used up that way. It was so warm and cosy and secluded (something not easy to achieve in a non-centrally heated house in the 1950s while sharing a bedroom with GB).
Lost in my own little fantasy world – just a bulge under the blankets. Wonderful.
How I would have loved one of these pillow lights.
