And the angels sang

All has not been peaceful at night here in the land of Towanda. The weather has been crazy cold and yours truly is cheap Scotch frugal enough to feel the need to conserve resources whenever possible. This means the furnace gets turned down to 60* at night, which frankly only means nothing is frozen in the trailer in the morning, not that the air is actually 60*. The damned thing still wakes me up coming on way too often. (Yes, I also use oil-filled electric space heaters.)

I’d been waking up with aching teeth, which I was terrified meant I could put off a mountain of dental work no longer, but upon reflection I decided it could be because I was sleeping cold enough to grind my teeth all night but not cold enough to wake up fully, and I piled on every blanket in the place in an effort to find some lasting warmth. Let me tell you, 50 pounds of quilts + 50 pounds of dog on top of a person does not a good night’s sleep make. Add a wool hat and a kitten who insists that 0200 is the perfect time to play King of the Mountain, and I was waking up exhausted and miserable.

I stopped at a nearby Bed Bath & Beyond on Sunday and purchased $100 worth of fancy pillows to find some relief. Monday morning found me waking with no kink in my neck for the first time in weeks. At last – a step in the right direction! I was still being crushed and sleeping in a wool hat, though.

And then I saw Vagina’s post yesterday, an ode to her dead heated blanket. A lightbulb went on!

WTF didn’t I think of that? Silly question, really – the narc didn’t believe in leaving the heat on at night and he would never have considered “wasting” all that electricity with a heated blanket just so we could sleep, fer cryin’ out loud. Whatever his other faults, the man slept like a blast furnace and I was never cold. He was a big fan of “acclimating” which is narc-speak for gritting one’s teeth and freezing all Winter because “the  natives from this area didn’t even have clothes – they wore bear grease and woven reeds – and we are weak white people who need to toughen up” and other such nonsense.

I found my new best friend at the local Bi-Mart. $45 is a lot to spend on a thin blanket, but I was desperate. I have to admit the thought ran through my head that if I could just tough it out long enough to get the next quilt project finished up I would save all that money, but the desire for a full night’s sleep won out and I ponied up the cash.

Back at the Manse, I put off going to bed as long as I could in the hope that fatigue would send me over the edge into sleep more easily. I made up the bed, putting the heated blanket between two thin quilts, one to protect me, one to keep the heat in, provided the thing even worked right. I’ll admit I was skeptical, even after Vagina’s glowing endorsement of heated blankets. It all sounded too good to be true and I was prepared to be disappointed.

I optimistically set the heat dial at ‘4’ (it ranges from 1 to 10) and crawled into bed, Sons of Anarchy on the tube, waiting for the magic to start.

OMG. Magic doesn’t begin to describe it. Slowly, slowly, the heat began to build until it settled at the Perfect Temperature, just like it knew what I needed. Not too hot, but toasty warm from shoulders to (amazing!) toes. The warmth enveloped me, pulling my eyes closed as surely as if it was a drug. Dog and cat hopped onto the bed and for once did not settle against my legs, pushing me off the side of the bed, letting in cold air with every movement – they could feel the magic, too.

I fell asleep like I’d had two Margaritas and mind-blowing sex. I fell like a rock into a soothing warm abyss.

I woke in the middle of the night, not sure what was wrong. I lay there for a minute, assessing the situation. I realized the unthinkable had happened – my feet were too warm! I actually had to take my wool socks off in the middle of the night! In December! It’s unheard of. I mean, my naked feet don’t feel sheets until some time in late April or early May!

The ringing of the alarm was most unwelcome this morning. I hit snooze four times. I didn’t want to leave the comforting embrace of my wonderful blanket. Duty called, however, and I unplugged him, carefully folded him and tucked him away for tonight.

The outside temp this morning was 25*F. The driver’s side door of my car was frozen shut. The window scraper has gone missing – not really a big loss as it had some broken teeth, but still. I crawled over the passenger seat to start the car and get it heating up before work. Crawled back out to walk Sabu (she looked at me like I’d lost my mind.) Still frozen after 10 minutes of blasting heat. Crawled back in and drove to work. Crawled out at work, thankful no one was in the parking lot to see. God, I hate Winter!

All I can think about is how wonderful it will be to join my lovely warm friend in bed again tonight. He totally gets me. He knows just what I need – currents of warmth all night long, wrapping me in peaceful slumber.

He needs a name – nothing too fancy as he’s 100% polyester, after all, and a creamy-beige color. Suggestions?