There comes a time in every woman's life when she must yield to the inevitable. For me, that time is now.
I won't deny that I've looked forward to this day for what seems like a very long time, but still my feelings are mixed. It's hard to let go of something that has been both painful and precious. But there it is: after waking up sweaty for three mornings in a row, I've finally faced up to the facts.
A new and better season has begun. It's time to take the flannel sheets off the bed and change them to plain cotton.
(Oh, you thought I meant that other change? I wish.)
If violets are the vanguard of spring in Wisconsin, the rearguard is the removal of flannel sheets. Each year they seem to stay on the bed a bit longer - last spring was so damp and chilly they didn't come off until June. In a drafty old house like ours (and with a thermostat kept as low as ours), there's nothing so cozy on a cold spring night as snuggling down under the fuzzy warmth of flannel - with a fleece blanket above, and a good weighty comforter to top it all off.
When the temperatures hit the 80s in March of this year, I'll admit we wavered. Oh yes, we were tempted. Glamourous daydreams of an early spring caused us to toy with the idea of throwing off the heavy flannel shackles to embrace the smooth lightness of plain cotton. But we knew 'twas an idle dream; the weather would correct itself, and the cold nights would soon return (which they did).
But now the time has come. It's May, and though there's still a chance of frost, the space heater has been put away. Doors are being left open between rooms. The red winter curtains are about to give way to the floating muslin of warmer weather. And the flannel sheets are going into storage, to dream sweet dreams of frosty nights and snow on the windowpane and warm sleepy snugglings.
Goodbye, flannel sheets. (Goodbye, fleece blanket.) See you in October!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~