I *heart* my HWB

Yesterday was Winter Solstice here in South Africa – the shortest day and longest night of the year, and officially the middle of winter. All day long, my social networks were bombarded with status updates and tweets from friends longing for their bed, duvets, blankets, log fires, hot chocolate, hot boyfriends, underfloor heating and so on and so forth etc etc. But I would like to suggest that I have found the BEST way to spend a cold winters day: THE HWB.


The HWB is the 'hottest' thing in town. Filled with vintage love, this thing is my new revived favorite item to get me by on these miserable wet and windy days and I highly recommend it to everyone!

I am, of course, talking about the ever faithful Hot Water Bottle.

I love my hot water bottle. No seriously. I L*O*V*E my hot water bottle! But I did not always appreciate its true qualities. Sadly, even though we have history, we spent many years apart. 

When I was a mini-me, Mother used to line up 6 HWB's on the kitchen counter or bathroom vanity and fill them all up in a row.

Each one was written on in black permanent marker with my and my 5 siblings names so that there wouldn’t be any fighting over who’s HWB was who’s. (In a family with so many kids, that kind of thing could cause a mass demonstration violent enough to turn Mother’s headache into something nuclear. And being the smart woman that she is, she knew that prevention was better than cure. Either it was label each HWB, or kill us. And we are all still here today, alive, so her system worked.)

Then when I grew up and left home, my HWB and I kind of drifted apart. At first I had good intentions. I didn't seem to have the time, but kept meaning to use it again. On especially cold nights I would lie in bed and find myself thinking of my HWB. I just never got round to making myself one no matter how cold I was. It lay there in the bottom of my cupboard, hidden under piles of shoes, un-loved, un-appreciated, forgotten. My life was too busy and too full with new fabulousness to be bothered with something so old, so known, so done. ‘Its not the same if Mother isn’t filling it’ was kind of my excuse, but really it was just an attitude problem laced with pure laziness. I was 'too cool' to deal with my cold, and I was too distracted by the Things New and Shiny that are here today and gone tomorow to pay any attention to my dear old HWB, pining away in my past.

Then recently, one of Husband’s closest friends came round, and in her arms was a HWB. Apparantly she really feels the cold, so takes her bottle EVERYWHERE with her! She brought it over to our house when visiting us that day, and sat there hugging it, flaunting her comfortable warmth and not hiding the fact that she was in no way feeling the cold. Even when we were outside around the braai, she took it with her and clung to it. I tried to cover my feelings with mockery, making fun of her and her HWB being so joined at the hip! Even though it was funny to watch, I started to feel something I had forgotten so long ago. HWB's may be Mothers generation, but they are undoubtedly ooooh so cleaver! And then I thought, 'Hey, that HWB is looking pretty good these days! Has it been working out?'

And so, inspired, I rummaged around in the debths of my cupboards, beyond the Spice Girl platform sneakers, past the 'Jellies', and found my old HWB (actually, it was labeled ‘BROTHER’S’ so I guess I somehow eventually managed to swap or steal his…) and started to use it on extremely cold days, but only in places where no one would see me or where I didn't really care what people thought. The office where I used to

work was not that unlike a morgue it was so cold, so I took the old faithful HWB with me there and kept it hidden under my desk on my lap. I soon found that I was one of the only people who didn’t complain about the central heating not working. And there is something so protective and soothing about hugging a hot HWB in a morgue, don’t you think?

Still, the true love had not yet returned. I was mearly flirting with ‘BROTHER'S’ HWB now and again, not fully commiting.

Then one day, while Husband and I were visiting the Natal Midlands for a little get away, I went and got sick. My tummy cramped something AWFUL and the only thing I could think of was to get my hands on a HWB to ease the pain! Husband diligently hunted down a lovely green one for me, and I re-discovered the wonderful healing qualities of the HWB.

HWB didn’t turn its back on me. It didn’t hold the past against me. It didn’t play games with me, making me pay for the years of indifference. No, HWB welcomed me back with open loving arms, and we have been blissfully happy ever since!

I have been with my new HWB ever since, and we have never been happier! We are stronger for the time we spent apart, I think. I bought my HWB a cute little grey-knit cover to celebrate our newly kindled flame, and I will never be cold again.

HWB, I *heart* you forever!

P.S. there are sooooo many adorable HWB covers out there these days (including fluffy pink Hello Kitty ones!!!) that its like getting to shop for a whole new wardrobe! Woo Hoo!

Love, lust and fairy-star-dust

Cherry Blossom