Wed Apr 26th, 2017
|08:38 pm - Wednesday in April, with blankets|
'The rough male kiss of blankets,' Rupert Brooke called it. He should have said, 'of English blankets.' A friend back in the 80s had a book that humourously listed the differences between English and Americans, of which I remember two. The American one was 'Americans think death is optional.' I can't quote the second (and google, which helpfully tells me that he book is probably Brit-think, Ameri-Think by Jane Walmsley, isn't interested in the subject) but it's to the effect that British blankets are heavy hairy leaden things that pin you to the mattress and keep you there. I met British blankets in the 60s and 70s, and yes, they are. Their colonial cousins aren't much better: a little lighter, a little smoother, but still a way of keeping you in one position in bed. I have a couple from the family home stashed away in the linen closet; I never use them but think they might come in handy some day, presumably if the power fails in winter and my duvets aren't enough.
But rummaging through said linen closet the other day I found something at the bottom of the pile- something smooth and soft and seductive. It was a pink woolen blanket, a rare single, of which I have no memory at all: but ahh, is it warm! I'm using it instead of the feather duvet- which is still too heavy for my twinging knees when I try to turn over. And this is why I never throw anything out.
Cherries blooming mightily down by Robots Library, though yes, several trees are dead or dying. Flocks of Asians out with cameras, and a very little girl in a red kimono with a red parasol being photographed by mother and older bro. Who were speaking Chinese to each other, but oh well. My cherries are peeping out here and there while the plums and the cherries across the way still hang on, aided by cold and lack of wind, which makes the view out the study window very white indeed. This has been your sakura update for the day.
An Event in Autumn, short fast mystery by Henning Mankell, proving that Swedish police are different from our police, or at least, fictional Swedish police are different from fictional English-speaking police. Must take this back to the library soon, because I keep misplacing the slender volume and thinking I've lost it for good.
Not much closer to finishing House of Binding Thorns, even with two days off work. Occasionally dipping into The Wandering Scholars.
Have Kushner's Thomas the Rhymer because I think people keep recommending it, though they could be recommending another version of a ballad tale I'm not much interested in to start with. Have also MJ Carter's The Infidel Stain because lebataleur raves about the series. Have a feeling I'll get to the Carter before I get to the Kushner.
|Date:||April 27th, 2017 06:36 am (UTC)|| |
We have old WWII army blankets from WTs brothers. Very heavy and itchy, but also very warm. I'm glad you found the pink one!
Maybe the 60s English ones were left over from the War as well. Waste not, want not...