But Glamis could. She began gnawing on the blanket and its knots last year, and every time I come home, I find another piece of it somewhere in my house. She means well, but she's a dog and dogs do stupid things. I hinted to my sister that a time has come for a new blanket.
I didn't realize that my hint arrived at the same time that I wrote about the "Frog" returning to the "Lily Pad" leaving the "Eagle" at LeMoyne on a blog earlier this year. It turns out she had already bought the material for a new blanket.
The Frogs arrived yesterday in the mail. Yes, on Valentine's day and two days before my birthday. I feel the timing was perfect and I'll be wrapped in love (which is the greatest feeling in the world).
The twins love theirs (soccer blankets for their dorm rooms). Tunga loves his patriotic blanket (he wrote last night to say "I hope your new blanket is as warm as mine." My dad has one. My mom. I imagine there are blankets blanketing our entire family, and that is beautiful.
I've often joked that those of us with birthdays near Valentine's day always have a struggle with the concept of love, but this year I'm realizing it's simple, really. We thrive at seeing love at its best and I absolutely love my frog blanket arriving exactly at the time it did. I'm about to be 45. That seems surreal, but I can celebrate with an exchange of my gnome and mushrooms, for frogs and flies!