Often, I am quite cold. I own a burgundy cardigan that I am quite fond of, not just for the warmth it provides, but also for the type of warmth I receive by it. Decades ago, my grandmother wove it for my mother, which she has passed down to me. The yarn is soft, and has grown softer with every wear from my mother and now myself. I did not know my grandmother very well, as she passed away when I was young, but I know she loved me and my family very much. And I can feel that love every time I slip on the cardigan, along with a more scientific sense of warmth. In the reading, activity is considered “to be the key source of development of both the object and the subject.” As I seek warmth, I wear my grandmother’s cardigan, and as I wear it the cardigan changes through mild abrasions, washes, and my stitching. It is successful in both keeping me warm, and in reminding me of the closely-knit family I have surrounding me.