I remember when we were little we had this blanket. It was green with blue patches, knitted by someone in our family. The pattern meant the blanket had a lots of holes everywhere, not big but big enough for you to wonder, how on Earth does it keep anyone warm? Despite the holes, it was the warmest blanket we owned and we used to fight over it relentlessly. Now, I don't even know where it is, maybe packed up in one of the boxes at the old house, or hiding at the bottom of the linen closet, waiting to be curled around our shoulders once more.