My Bedside Table

Welcome to my bedroom (or part thereof). I don't have a bedside table in the accepted sense, because the head of the double-bed is in the window bay, which naturally has sloping sides. I like to sleep with my head in the bay, so I can look out at the sky at night and on sunny mornings, and enjoy fresh air on my face, especially in this heat. What I have instead is a table in the alcove, as shown below.

When I say table, it's actually a  two-tier shoe rack, but it serves the purpose of a bedside table perfectly well.

I know some people have cabinets by their beds, with drawers for personal effects; others have night-stands; and I'm supposing some have nothing at all, but they are probably the sort of people who have a   television screen mounted up on the bedroom wall and a remote control under the pillow.

When it is there, what purpose does the bedside cabinet,/night-stand/table serve in this age of fully plumbed bathrooms? I suppose at minimum it's a repository for those items one takes off or puts down last thing at night without wanting to have to get out of bed - a book perhaps, spectacles or contact lenses (if worn), mobile phone. (My parents used to keep their false teeth in mugs on their bedside cabinets. Ugh.) It might also sport a bedside lamp, box of tissues, glass of water, alarm clock. 

Then I did a quick web search for information about other items frequently found on a bedside table or in a bedside cabinet (yes, I guess I'm stretching the brief here slightly). Cosmetics featured quite highly - cold cream, face wipes, eau de cologne, lipstick; so did medications - contraceptive pills, various sorts of tablets, epi-pen, inhaler; also items of a recreational nature - condoms, vibrators, hand-cuffs et cetera. There were some oddities (I won't say surprises, because very little does anymore) and I'll just list a few that it would never have occurred to me to keep by my bedside (even in a drawer) - house keys, pet rock, chocolate, packets of sweets, passport, credit cards, crucifix, torch, cigarettes plus lighter/matches (I'm not a smoker, but wouldn't in bed even if I were), roll of banknotes, penny whistle, thermometer, knife and fork, scalpel, pepper spray, loaded pistol!

On my own bedside table, as shown in close-up below, I have an anglepoise lamp, some books, a statue of buddha, a jar containing scent-diffuser sticks, a framed photograph and an ornate model of a cave beetle. Only the books vary from time to time. Right now they are 'In And Out Of The Mind' by Ruth Padel, 'Honour' by Elif Shafak and 'Stone & Sky', the latest from Ben Aaronovitch.

It's been a really busy Saturday, with poetry events morning, afternoon and evening, so I've had no time to work on a poem even remotely connected to the theme. Instead, let me share one from the American poet Anna Blake.

Love Drunk

I left your wine glass
on my bedside table

for seven days
it settled in the very place
that your hands had aimlessly
chosen

staining a ring around a mostly empty bodice.

mostly empty?
barely full?

you see, for me,
the wine glass was
my way of having you
stay as long as I wanted.

I saw your delicate
fingerprints stamped upon
the stem and body

just as they were on mine, under a tin roof
amidst a blanket of summer rain.

                                                         Anna Blake

Oh, and by the way, the Dead Good Blog passed the 3,000,000 views milestone today. How about that. I just wish more people would leave comments (and I know my fellow bloggers feel the same way)

.
Thanks, as ever, for reading this, S ;-)

Read More

My Bedside Table - My Space

A mock Tiffany lamp with a dimmer feature sits on top of my bedside table, which is a fitted unit matching the headboard. A Mr and Mrs pair of teddy bears from the Outer Hebrides and dressed in authentic Harris tweed occupy the remaining space.

Below this, my bedside table is a work of art in the style of Tracey Emin’s unmade bed. The clutter is contained within the small area, and I know where everything is. It’s functional and how I like it. A biography of Agatha Christie, The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Anne Bronte, a couple of poetry collections and a fantasy/horror novel make a tower of books topped with a notebook, a journal and a box of tissues. It never looks balanced or neat. Hand cream, an assortment of pens, a bookmark made by a child and another with ‘Desiderata’ on it, a straw coaster, plastic water bottle and just enough room for my phone which I rely on for an alarm. Don’t mention the dust.

Half a dozen perfumes, mainly Christian Dior are grouped together on an internal shelf. I have no sense of smell anymore, but I remember my favourites and still use them. Also on the shelf is a small torch, just in case. A jewellery box which belonged to my late mother and contains some of her things, special to me, takes up the rest of the shelf.

I keep my glasses in the drawer, with several spare pairs, a few charging cables for various devices and an iPod Shuffle music thingy full of Moody Blues albums which I take on holidays.

Beneath the drawer is an open space where keepsakes and bits and pieces are safe in a perfectly fitting box.

I would love a tidy, minimalistic bedside table. It will never be, not in my busy house.

My Haiku,

I do not lose things
They’re on my bedside table
With everything else.

It’s only some keys,
They will be under something
Not exactly lost.

A crumpled tissue,
Used for cleaning my glasses
Had covered them up.

PMW 2025

Thanks for reading, Pam x

Read More