It was a cold and rainy day. Our apartment building has shut off the heat because of the mild spring and with a return to Canadian norm the cold has seeped through the walls and into our bones. It's not at the point where we are seeing our breath when we speak, but it's close.
The nice thing is that we have a house full of throws, all sorts of them. I love blankets. I think they are the most wondrous of creations. They are woven for the sheer purpose of hunkering down under and into. Both of us were buried under piles of soft, warm, binkies.
It's amazing the sense of security that comes with a blanket. It like a non-pharmaceutical version of some powerful drug that gives a sense of well being. There are so many problems that can be solved, or at least avoided, under a lovely soft throw.
Today when snuggled under my two favourites, a blue one that's very soft and a wine one that's very warm. I put the blue against me and the wine over it. As a result I get a very soft warm. Lovely.
I'm figuring that every single person who turns 16 should be given a couple of blankets with the instructions:
1) Curl up.
2) Throw blanket over.
3) Take a nap.
I know I'm being naive but I figure this just might be an end to many social ills. And by the way, all those people wheeling about in wheelchairs with blanket on their laps ... they've got a secret weapon against the harshness of the world. That's why they are usually smiling.