Home is where your heart is?

Uhm. No. I think the saying should go something like, "home is where your bed is" or  oooo, oooo "home is where your Bella Notte sheets are". After two long. Long, long, long. Long. Nights away. I'm finally back home to my bed. Weeeeeeeeee! The moment I walked in I just went into the bedroom, and stared at it for a second, in all it's gilded and linen beauty, to make sure this was all really happening and that I wasn't going to wake up on a full-sized mattress on the floor squished between the hubby and my two girls again. With no fan. Again. When we were little, I never understood my father because if we were somewhere within a days drive of our house (including out of state), we would never get to spend the night, because he WAS going to be sleeping in his own bed....20 years later, I'm right there with ya pop!

image via decorpad
That ticking bolster, makes, this bed. The room has a comfy elegant feel, but the cazh ease of that ticking and those tied off ends makes this a bed I'd drive all day for aslo!

image via decorpad
My mom once told me, "If it ain't baroque, fix it" I love how the bed takes centerstage. No chotchkies  on the night stand. Simple, but trimmed, fabric from the corona. And muted covers. 

image via Anthropology
An unmade bed can TOTALLY go over as a made bed. With the right  top cover and perfect back drop, who needs  a maid?? And if the rest of the room is organized clutter, makes it all work that much easier.

image via decorpad
I wish I owned this bed. I wish it, and it's burlap canopy and gray linens took up space in my home. Get me an eye mask, and I'd hibernate in here.

Hope everyone's weekend was swell! Monday comes in the am.