Wooly

Not easy to photograph a black cat on dark green in winter light. Not well, anyway. Moby loves the wool, any wool. He doesn't suck on it, as some cats do. He just snuggles in on it, and looks peaceful and contented. Much easier when he's on the red wool blanket from my childhood.

Both D and I kept our green wool army blankets. No one asked for them back after we got home. Good wool, even if they do have US printed on them. When C and Moira visited us in Boston, I knew, despite it not being winter, that the two tall Californians would be cold at night. That's when the two single blankets became one huge cover, stitched together with purple embroidery thread, very heavy and warm.

We like our blankets to go sufficiently over the sides so that the chill doesn't come rushing in when the other person turns over. Over the years, I'd looked for a full size wool blanket for us. Never could afford one worth having. The doubled army blankets became our good winter cover. I get queen size top sheets, and happened to get that larger bedspread (so, so long ago), and the edges go over and around far enough. The black bedspread was a huge indulgence, to fit the new futon in my new tiny apartment, right after my escape from the ex. Just before my sojourn to Saudi Arabia at the bequest of the Army. Which is when I was issued the green blanket.

Futon and frame are gone, but that spread still looks good, if you don't untuck some of the frayed ends. Reminds me of Aunt Evelyn's white chanille patterned bedspread, smooth and tidy on their bed. My version is more casual, more workable for someone whose idea of neat is far less time consuming than my house proud aunt. Hers came off, neatly folded and into the chest at night. Ours stays on all the time. The bed often doesn't get made, unless there are visitors coming. I try, but it just doesn't seem that important. We turn the electric bedpad on for Moby, he settles in for the day.