Good evening. Welcome to the Just Sleep podcast. I'm Tasia, your host.

Every week, I will read you an old story to help you relax, put the stressful day behind you,

and drift off to sleep.

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Tonight I will be reading To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf.

So lie down, close your eyes,

and let me read you a story the window one yes of course if it's fine tomorrow said

mrs. Ramsey but you'll have to be up with a lark, she added.

To her son, these words conveyed an extraordinary joy, as if it were settled.

The expedition were bound to take place, and the wonder to which he looked forward,

for years and years, it seemed, was was after a night's darkness and a day's

sail within reach. Since he belonged, even at the age of six, to that great clan which cannot

keep this feeling separate from that, but must let future prospects, with their joys and sorrows, cloud what is actually at hand.

Since to such people, even in earliest childhood, any turn in the wheel of sensation has a power

to crystallize and transfix the moment upon which its gloom or radiance rests. James Ramsey, sitting on the floor, cutting out

pictures from the illustrated catalogue of the Army and Navy stores, endowed the picture of a fridge

as his mother spoke with heavenly bliss. It was fringed with joy.

The wheelbarrow, the lawnmour, the sound of poplar trees, leaves whitening before rain,

rooks cawing, brooms knocking, dresses rustling.

...