This afternoon marked the beginning of Slanket Season. While I have used my Slanket throughout the year, as I curled up on the couch with a cup of tea, my Slanket and a good book, I noted that this time it felt different. My Slanket felt more essential to life today, as though no common blanket would do. Perhaps it was the persistent and unending rain or the cold, damp air. Maybe it was the darkness of the day. Or possibly I have an internal calendar set specifically to register the official onset of Slanket Season. I’m not sure. But I do know that I will once again be driven to figure out how I can spend the next five to six months wrapped in my Slanket and will probably tell myself (quite futilely) that this time I won’t soak the sleeves while doing dishes in it. But maybe this time I really won’t…