Toasty....

.....for a number of months I've been lobbying for the purchase of an electric blanket. I've not slept in a bed heated by an electric blanket in perhaps five decades, in fact the last time I can clearly recall one such night, I was staying with my long departed nana and pop. That must be mid-1970s.  However, the sensation of a warmed bed has remained with me as a cherished childhood memory and I've now reached that point in life when I feel it is acceptable to own and operate such a device. I've added it to fleecey jammies and indoor/outdoor slippers on my list of reasonable adjustments. 

After our succesful foray to Kelso to collect one yesterday, I looked forward to bed-time, counting down the hours until it was reasonable to retire (somewhere between 55-56 8 and 9pm). Imagine the delight when I climbed into bed, with both the body and foot temperature controllers having been turned up full to level 9, and I encountered an environment every bit as good as I remember. Enhanced of course by the contrast of the cold room with our boiler being on strike again.  It was grand. 

I awoke after a night of big dreams and crept through to the freezing kitchen to make breaky, huddling over the toaster for warmth. Nancy was working from home and she'd set-up office on the dining table with the electric heater near-by and it was clear that I was not expected to join her.  So, after a hot shower I layered-up and went off to perform my duties in the van, keeping the heater on 9 at all times. 

Home now at 1.30pm, and I think I might go to bed soon.