I pulled out my down comforter on Sunday night.
This has huge implications.
For one, it means that for the next four or five months I'll be sleeping on a cloud. Or so it will seem because this blanket is the greatest. Single. Item. Ever. Invented. It's fluffy! It's soft! It's cuddly! It is love. I love this thing so damn much. I've slept happier the past couple of nights because of it.
For another, it means that winter is on its way. In Michigan the winter chill starts creeping in long before other states. But I don't complain because it means more quality cuddle time with The Boy.
It also means stupid winter jackets and boots. But along with that fact comes cute wintery accessories! Like scarves! And gloves! And hats....when I have a bad hair day, that is.
The thing about winter for me is that I have all these romantic ideas about it. Like a marathon of cuddling with John. Or sipping hot chocolate with friends by a roaring fire even though nobody I know has a fire place. Or kissing in the snow. Or moonlit strolls down a frosty path.
All kinds of gorgeous images play in my mind when I think of winter. And I have NO idea where they came from because I'm from the U.P. where there is nothing romantic about winter. (Unless you're the kind of person who gets all hot and bothered by six-foot snowbanks.) So I have all these grandiose ideas and I get all excited about winter. But then when winter actually gets here I'm all like "BLECH! BRRR! I'm cooooold. Booooo! I hate this!!!"
I'm weird, I know. But at least I have my fluffy down blanket to get me through the winter. And The Boy. So maybe this year those grand ideas may actually turn into reality...
Ciao, dahling!