11-9-11 my love affair with blankets

I had a seriously hard time getting out of bed this morning. We keep the heater down around 60° which makes snuggling under the blankets all the more toasty first thing in the morning.

As my going-away present at Blinn, I was presented with a king-sized goose down comforter (thank you Lynne!):

And before our first winter here, Mom and Dad got us a king-sized Pendleton wool blanket. 

Both are atop the bed from October through April. 

And these are the just currently adored blankets. 

The first, though, is still the most beloved.

 I can't be sure, but that may be it hanging on the edge of my crib here.

By the time I was two, we were inseparable. It was a pristine waffle weave in white with satin border.

And, with my penchant for sleeping on the floor, it was my constant companion.

Even under bigger blankets, there it is, tucked right up next to me.

Note, too, the tiny baby pillow that was part and parcel of my Linus complex. It stayed between me and any other pillow:

I guess it was somewhere around mid elementary school that the poor thing had turned to tatters, only the satin border holding together. It, along with my little baby pillow, still went everywhere I did. You can see the pillow up in my cozy corner of the van and underneath, no doubt, was my tattered blanket.

It was right about here, at this age, that my blanket mysteriously disappeared. I remember rousing after drifting off and realizing it wasn't in my bed. I stumbled down the loft stairs to try and find it, but it never surfaced. (To this day I think Mom had finally had enough of the disgusting thing and disposed of it.)

But, I still have that pillow. Sammi latched on to it in her baby days and it's now stowed away, along with her baby blanket in a safe place.

Because happiness is a warm blanket.