For my last birthday, way back in March, my sister stopped by with a gift, a quilt she made. Now I own three quilts! One is a light cotton, my summer quilt, one is flannel, my winter quilt, and the new quilt is cotton, but the batt, the lining in the middle, is wool. She has steered her customers to this new wool batt of late. It is light and it is warm, she says.
When she came, way back in March or April, I put the quilt on the shelf for the next season, spring being around the corner. And Laura was packing to move and I was packing to move and it just wasn't the time.
Yesterday I finished my changeover to winter, including changing out bedding. I threw my pillow back on the new quilt.
The pine green that looked nice with my old quilts is a jarring NoNo. I rummaged back on the shelves and found the second case of a pair I used twenty or more years ago.
Now, that is perfect! Jan knows I like green. Purple is her color, though in my dotage I find I'm owning more and more of it. And for the quilters out there, the new quilt is strips of flying geese.
So, last night I slipped under a quilt with a wool batt. It is feather weight, like it's barely there at all. Then the warm turned on. Hard to explain. Years ago a friend picked up a handspun wool sweater I'd made for her husband. He was ill and on the sofa when she went home. She laid it over him and he told her several times how warm it was.
Wool is a different kind of warm. I can explain the reason, but not the feeling. My sister calls the quilts with wool, the ultimate snuggle.