Eternal comforter

There are some things in life you didn't ask for. Things you didn't want. Things you don't care for aesthetically. That don't match the rest of your life. Sometimes a thing just shows up on your doorstep and you think you'll just stow it away in a nice box you found for it in the garage. After all, you don't want to hurt anyone's feelings.

This comforter was made by Rob's step-mother at least 20 years ago.  The crochet work is impeccable, but I've never been a big fan of candy corn colors (unless as candy corn) and I vastly prefer wool or cotton or something actually found in the natural world. This could only be considered of the natural world if you count petroleum products. 

No offense meant to my step-mother-in-law, who I adore, but I had no intention of letting it live in the house. Somehow, someway, it snuck its way in and hasn't left. It's comforted all of us here, at one time or another. Me, Rob, Em, Claire, their friends, and all the pups. I'm not sure but it may have even comforted one tortoise, Jasmine, after her swimming pool incident. 

And after twenty years of use and abuse, after thousands of washes, it looks... like... new. I think of all it's been through (including my continual mutterings about those *$#@! colors) and I think of all of us wrapped up in its candy-corn-zig-zag-ness, and it practically makes me weep with joy. This thing that I didn't want or didn't ask for has carefully, painstakingly won my hardened heart. It can stay. For now it's in the closet. Until someone needs comforting.