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These are two rugs which I finished recently. The wool was passed on to me from those people not wanting to use it. Each one has been give to a lady who passes them on to people who are in need. I hurried up to finish them while the weather was cool enough to work with such weight on the lap, and not be hot. I had slowed down during the summer months. Now, with the colder months, the writing has slowed because the house is like a freezer. But I have completed the two rugs. I have another one on the go. I am trying to catch up with bits of writing while I have a couple of days of peace. I also seem to have more non interrupted time since I have added my phone number to the "No More Calls" list.
This story is another one I have written for ABC Open.
Winter Fingers
I shivered throughout the night.
The quick change in the weather from hot, to chilly, had all the muscles crying with pain.
In the early hours of the morning, I slipped, shivering, from my cold bed in the search of blankets.
Rivulets of Arctic fire shot up my legs from my feet, when they encountered the wooden, polished
floor.
In the darkness, I opened the cupboard door to grab what felt like blankets, then rushed back to my
bedroom. I shook out each one to dump on the bed before climbing in to try to build some warmth.
Didn't happen.
The chill had settled into my bones.
My feet were like icebergs.
I was still trying to warm my body when my uncle rang.
“I use a thermal blanket,” was his reply, to my complaints. “I only need the one.”
“Yeah,” I thought, remembering where he lived. And the air-conditioner he used to warm his room
before going to bed.
Thermal. The word rang bells.
I had one of those. Somewhere.
I had no intentions of spending another frosty, sleepless night.
I stripped the bed.
After four loads of washing I began my search. Downstairs.
I pulled a striped bag from a wardrobe. Placing it on the bed I zipped it open.
Surprise. Surprise.
No. not the thermal. New blankets still in the package. Never been used.
My triumph faded when I read the size. Queen. Double, I needed.
Not to be beaten. I carried the three packets upstairs.
The mattress had to be turned. With aching fingers I struggled to lift the mattress. Walked it across the base before lowing it to the base.
I set to build my cocoon.
Blanket.
Sheets.
Three new blankets.
New comforter with matching pillowcases.
The over used, shrunk blankets were packed in bags ready to be recycled.
Exhausted. I slipped between the sheets after a warm shower.
Shivering, I couldn't hold the book to read, I cast it aside. Switched off the lamp.
Pulled up the blankets to my ears.
Oh.
What a wondrous haven?
Within minutes I was as warm as freshly toasted bread.
The rising of the sun woke my from a deep sleep. The sheets were hardly rumpled because I hadn't
moved much in my sleep. I put my arm out from the warmth to the cool morning air.
Groaned.
Shivered.
Whipped the covers back into place then went back to sleep.
I'm waiting to see if the fingers of winter that seep through the walls will penetrate the wall of
warmth I have built. With the large blankets reaching the floor, I hope they can't.
Once started on my search I kept going, cleaning, eventually, finding the thermal blankets.
Two weeks of turning out hiding places.
Dusting and moping.
With aching muscles I finished by polishing the stair railings.
The job is completed.
Until I
decided to search for another hidden treasure.
Phew!!! Nearly lost the story. I pushed the wrong button. But I found the right one to return it to my file.
