After removing the comforter to clean the duvet cover one day, I realized, the problem was worse than I'd expected. After washing, I carefully tucked the comforter back into its home and realized I would not be able to remove it again until I replaced it.
Time was running out
Each trip to Costco, I'd look. But unfortunately, they wouldn't have it. The few feathers here and there became a part of my life — almost a dietary supplement, as inhaling the tiny creatures occurred from time to time. The duvet cover kept most of them in. Unfortunately, as the months rolled on with no replacement, I was painfully aware of its unwashed state. I did everything to keep it from getting dirty, but it still bothered me, and feathers were accumulating inside. For those of you unaware, I can be anal about my bedding. The comforter acts as a barrier to keep dirt and whatnot out. I won't generally retire under its protective layer without having showered first. I like my sheets and bedding clean. But I digress.
"He shoots, he scores"
Recently a friend came over — uhm, quite literally. Time had now expired. The inevitable operation was needed stat. A quick trip first thing the next morning to Costco revealed a few comforters left. Back home, I stood looking at the patient and sighed as I carefully unsutured the duvet cover that had been sullied and pulled out the old comorter.
Now, mind you, I've never seen a goose explode before. But I know knew what the aftermath would look like. There were tiny feathers — everywhere. It was as if someone had stuck an M80 up a goose's butt and lit it. I was coated — feathered without the tar. I sealed the old comforter up in the new comforter's case, coughed a lot, and brought the duvet to be washed.
The cleanup begins
My floor was covered in little tiny white feathers. There were feathers floating everywhere. I was breathing more Feathers than O2. I vaccuumed up what I could and then decided to remove the vaccuum tube from the roller part. As I proceeded to chase the floating feathers around the room, trying to suck them up one by one, I noticed no suction. Checking the bag (and in the process releasing more particles into the air), I discovered the vaccuum had become clogged. I cleared the obstruction, and my adventure continued.
I had the main part of the vaccuum in one hand, the nozzle in the other. I realized I needed to test the suction. I had no free hands so needed another part of my skin. In hindsight, my face probably wasn't the best choice. After I managed to extricate my cheek from the vaccuum nozzle, I became worried it might leave a hickey. Wondering how I would explain it to friends that the hickey actually came a vaccuum cleaner and no, I really was just cleaning, I continued vaccuuming the air of my room, getting as many of the geese spawn I could.
I'm hoping the new geese that have settled in my new comforter will not have the problems of the last flock. Otherwise the next birds near me while I slumber will be a species known as down alternative.
::coughs:: ::sneeze::
Does anyone know how well feathers digest?
