My blanket does not tie me to the west, but my daughter Katie does. I guess since she is working on this project—that ties the blanket to the west!
My blanket was made for me by my mother, Elsa, when I went off to college. Mom loved to knit and do needlework but Rheumatoid Arthritis took that joy away from her.
The blanket/afghan was knit in many bright colors. It was knit in strips with a change in color, pattern, design every eight inches or so. When the strips were sewn together, it looked like a patchwork—totally random patchwork—quilt. She called it a gypsy blanket. It must have been a pattern she found at the local knitting shop.
When the blanket got old and pilled, I gave it to my cat, Jamaica, who snuggles in it, in a wicker basket every night.