Don't Throw That Out

Just my luck. We are in the midst of a cold spell and my heat is out. Thanks to my hearty Vermont blood I've been able to withstand it for three days, but last night was bad. Like a child I stood in my bedroom ready to tantrum (arms flailing, pointing towards the walls of neighbors with working radiators) thinking, how can I get warm?




Which is when I remembered the hot water bottle. I picked it up at an antique fair outside Madison, WI. It could have cost $20, it could have cost $50. The moment I saw it I had to have it because it reminded me of the one my Grammy tucked under my covers when I'd visit her in chilly Boston. It cost $5.

Out of pure dedication to the memory I used it one winter, but my apartment is generally warm, so I put it in a closet.

Each year during my annual New Year's pitch-a-thon I look at it, think about it, wonder if I should move it to basement storage or toss. And then I remember that the night will come when I just want to be warm.

I am back in love with The Best Hot Water Bottle Ever. Together we slept, keeping each other warm. Ok, it was keeping me warm because the truth is, even hearty Vermont blood is no match for really, really hot tap water encased in incredibly reliable rubber.