After a pleasant Thanksgiving and early bedtime, I had every intention of “sleeping in”. However, anyone my age is probably familiar with an alarm clock which requires no setting. Snuggled warmly in bed, my subconscious unsuccessfully negotiated with my bladder for ten extra minutes’ sleep. I started to swing my legs out and paused. Having tripped over Comet once this week, I discerned that both of the dogs lay side by side between my bedside and the bathroom door. Military training, navigating around obstacles in the dark, helped accomplish the mission.
The Fall in Southern California has briefly brought a chill ( if 67 F inside can be called “chill”). Though we have dog-beds in the office across the hall, Comet and Dexter were thankfully laying upon an old blanket at my bedside. In truth, it had been Dexter’s “blankie” for a couple nights since it had fallen off the bed. Still, I don’t blame the dogs for appreciating fine Irish wool. Before we pull out a comforter – we had been using one of these wool blankets for the last couple Fall seasons. Up to a few years ago, I had kept two Irish blankets which had been in my mother’s family for at least a hundred years, in a box in the garage smelling of moth balls.
Some are probably wondering why a family “heirloom” ended up under a dog’s rump. It is a tale of practicality, lack of room, and dusting things we don’t look at much. We have other priorities now – a grandchild. Cleaning out clutter to provide playthings for little Zander. It may be time to list things on eBay.
If climate change makes cool evenings less common in the next couple decades, these Irish wool blankets may yet be a collectible. I imagine some day an “antique road show” may value these century-old handmade blankets as an “Ice Age” artifact. I will have to get at least one blanket cleaned again.