Ooh, That Smell...

Yesterday I put two of my surplus wool blankets through the wash and hung them out to dry. The Italian Army blanket, when wet, reeked of mothballs but the smell lessened as the blanket dried. The German Army blanket in the front is the one I picked up while at Briar Patch for the Primitive Skills course last year and it just smelled like wet wool blanket.

We're getting some rain this morning and there's just enough moisture in the air to bring out the scents of those blankets again.

The temperature is noticeably cooler than the mid to high 90s we had late last week and there was a bit of a breeze while the kids stood outside waiting for the bus to summer school. To show them how wool can protect you even when wet I had them both walk in between the two blankets and then describe to me how it felt in there.

Jake thought it was itchy on the back and soft and fuzzy on the front (it was) and Laura noticed that it was both warmer and less windy in the dead air space.

It was the smell that really got to me though. Like I mentioned above, this blanket will forever remind me of the time I spent in the woods with George, Dom, Kevin, Mark, and the rest of the gang. It's a scent memory much like the smell of grandma's apple pie, or in my case, grandma's fried perch. YUM!

Interestingly, the reason I decided to wash up these two wool blankets is to prepare for a trip up to see George on his new piece of property and to attend one of his plant classes with my daughter. She wants to camp, I need a day or two off, and there's never an excuse needed to get out and see George and sit around a campfire with him.

Thanks for reading,


B