Blankie

As well as accidentally cleaning the ovens, I did lots of other Domestics.  I moved all the furniture in the living room to do a proper vacuum and floor wash.  Moving one of the side tables, I found a box underneath.  In the box was a heated blanket. It belonged to Miss T.

Well, it didn't really belong to her,  but she claimed it as hers, we referred to it as her blanket,  and she used it every time she was here.   The thought of it made me smile and, paradoxically, the urge to cry welled up inside me.  

Instead,  I took a picture of it and WhatsApped her.  I said I'd been cleaning and found it, and that I missed her. She messaged straight back, twice.

I miss you too

followed a few seconds later by

And the blanket.

 

I do love her!