The Gods Eye Blanket

​Today is a windy, slightly rainy, but none the less lovely, Saturday afternoon. I’m sure my excessive use of dashes and comas is hell for any English major, but it feels right to me. My apologies if it makes anyone cringe to read my messy writing. I have always known that I could improve on the technical side of my writing, maybe that is something I could look into while I practice social distancing. Or maybe my poor grammar is endearing? I hope. I am lounging around my little apartment in Moscow. I forced myself to put on makeup and style my hair today, to counteract the fact that I am in sweats and my bathrobe. Balance! Spending more time at home has led me to restlessly stare into my closet. Every time I walk into my room, I think about how this quarantine time could be such an amazing opportunity to organize. It takes very genuine effort on my part to keep my life organized. Organization has never been a strength for me, but I always feel less anxious when I simplify. I don’t quite understand how feng shui works but I definitely feel shifts in my energy when there is too much clutter in my living and workspace. My creativity and contentment feel blocked with clutter. Staying home could be a really useful time to rid myself of the useless shit I have accumulated, and maybe I will even take down the rest of the Christmas decorations in my living room! Does it make me an awful person that I have decorations celebrating Jesus’s birthday still up in March? Or perhaps it makes me a devoted Christian? Probably just an awful person, but that is the thing about perspective- it just depends how you frame it. Perspective is a great thing. I have been trying to control my frame of mind while I self-isolate, looking at this time to get shit done. I have been writing every day. I asked my mom for a good topic to blog about, and she sent me a whole damn list (hats off to Jillian). One thing on the lengthy list was “The Gods eye blanket”. Anyone reading this has no clue what I am talking about. UNLESS you are my mother or brother. The two people involved in this on-going ball game. Let me start with the origin of the gods eye blanket. When I was 17 my mom and I went to the Oregon Coast to take a few senior pics, but mostly just to spend time together. The trip was sweet and relaxing. We stayed at a little inn that was ran by an older gentleman, who woke up early every morning of our stay to pick up fresh pastries from the bakery in town. The inn was a short five-minute walk from the beach, and we could hear the waves from our room when we would leave the window cracked at night. One of the most heavenly sounds. Waves rolling into the shore. I have always felt a wholeness when I am near the ocean, and if there were ever a time genetics were at play, I could almost guarantee it was passed down from my mother. We love the ocean accompanied with early morning coffee, and late night bon fires. I can almost smell the aroma as I type. LOVELY. Staring into the vastness of the ocean with its deep blue’s makes me feel whole. The Oregon coast has always been my favorite place to fill my cup. Manzanita Oregon is my heaven on earth, with its beach hugged by the rocky cliffs. On this trip my mom and I were spending our nights by a bonfire on the beach. We drove into town one of the days to pick up essentials for the ocean (cheese and wine) and stumbled across a shop that had everything we would need. In the shop was a large black fleece blanket that had native American designs across it, and according to the sign it was called the gods eye blanket. We snagged it to help keep warm against the windy coastal nights, when we stayed out late by the fire. It was warm, beautiful, and a special reminder of our trip. My mom brought it home to spread across a bed in one of the guest rooms. The blanket was just my brothers style. Dillon has always had a very PNW style to him. For anyone who doesn’t know my brother Dillon, this is how I would describe him to you; Dillon is a tall, lanky creature with dark brown hair and mischief in his eyes. He is the worse liar I have ever met, and his honesty is like an aura around him. He looks like the kind of early 20s man you would find in Portland or Seattle because he wears flannels and cool sneakers. Dillon’s style is true to his nature- chill and fun. When he saw the blanket, he wanted it. My mom and I both told him in no uncertain terms- NO. This blanket was a fun little accessory to a trip that was precious! Dillon had other options! If he really wanted to steal a blanket for his new apartment, I would have gladly lent him my old-ratty orange and black (our high schools colors) tied together fleece blanket. Or even the old denim jeans quilt (yes- it’s as funky as it sounds) that someone’s grandmother made for us when we were in junior high. He could have had one of those! But he insisted that he needed the gods eye blanket. So, the ball game began. Back and forth we would steal the gods eye. Eventually it just ended up at Dillon’s apartment, where I suppose it must have truly belonged. Now when I think about it, I like to think that we brought the special blanket back home to its true owner, which turned out to be Dillon. I would occasionally see the blanket when I would visit him, and one night it was thrown across me when I crashed on Dillon’s couch. It is rightfully his now, because he fought long and hard for the gods eye. As I was writing this blog I began to wonder, does he still have it? I hadn’t seen it in a while, and perhaps he grew tired of it. I just texted him “Do you still have the gods eye” and within a minute he sent back a picture of himself on his couch with the blanket draped over the back. The text said “I don’t know what you’re talking about”. Smirking. Knowing damn well what I was talking about. It’s his now. My mom and I talk about it every so often, reminiscing on our trip, and what a little thief Dillon is. Ok, my mom never called her son a thief. But as the sister, ya he’s a fucking thief. But I love him, so I guess he can keep it... for now.  
-Libby