The shortest day. For us, that means the sun rises at 7:25 a.m. and sets at 4:24 p.m. (By comparison, in Warsaw, the shortest day is actually tomorrow, when the sun will rise at 7:43 a.m. and set at 3:25 p.m.)
Do you take note of it?
In the years when we have fog, rain, sleet, or even snow, it's tough to separate the sheep from the goats -- the days blur into a heap of gray indifference. The day doesn't feel short. Rather it feels like it never quite got going.
But today we have beautiful sunshine! The animals are out and about, Ed takes out his bicycle and goes out for a ride. After breakfast, of course.
This is when winter solstice has an edge over midsummer night: you may like your June sunshine, but it's midwinter sunshine that is most revered. The joy of feeling its mellow light is profound. And of course it portends longer days. When the sun sets on summer solstice, you feel it's downhill all the way thereafter!
My morning is all about mom. It's a new pattern for me. Morning -- mom. Afternoon -- other. Evening -- mom again.
I do have a rather good, long talk with my sister. It doesn't make up for a visit, but I can almost feel that Warsaw holiday sparkle passing through the Skype waves. Christmas in Poland is a big deal. Not surprising, since upwards of 85% of the population identifies itself as Catholic (the number drops down significantly in Warsaw and only a fraction attends church on a regular basis, nonetheless, Christmas is huge).
I want to bake, because a holiday season without baking is like a chicken without feathers (cold!), but I postpone it once again. This shortest day of them all is so lovely, that I pull out my bike and I follow Ed along the rural roads (a second ride for him!) all the way to Lake Waubesa.
I shout out -- We could go to Christie's Bar (a small local dive on the lake shore), except I dont really want a beer.
Let's split one!
That's embarrassing! Two people walk into a bar and order one beer on tap for $1.50.
We do it anyway.
And then we pedal back.
At the farmhouse we roast chestnuts. Ed tries to convince me that the microwave is good enough for the job. I look at him in horror.
What is the point then? That is a plunge into a cooking abyss I myself will not take!
Tastes good! Here, let's try it!
In reality, they do not taste good when microwaved. I do the standard criss cross on their flat side, stick them in the oven and sit back to the wonderful aroma of roasting chestnuts. Almost like the chestnut stands in New York City, only better!
A few minutes after 4 we go for a walk. For this (at 4:24 or thereabouts):
And this, after the sunset...
What words would you put to winter solstice? Happy winter? Merry short day? How about the same as ever -- stay healthy and in love with life! And to longer days going forward! From our house to yours.
Do you take note of it?
In the years when we have fog, rain, sleet, or even snow, it's tough to separate the sheep from the goats -- the days blur into a heap of gray indifference. The day doesn't feel short. Rather it feels like it never quite got going.
But today we have beautiful sunshine! The animals are out and about, Ed takes out his bicycle and goes out for a ride. After breakfast, of course.
This is when winter solstice has an edge over midsummer night: you may like your June sunshine, but it's midwinter sunshine that is most revered. The joy of feeling its mellow light is profound. And of course it portends longer days. When the sun sets on summer solstice, you feel it's downhill all the way thereafter!
My morning is all about mom. It's a new pattern for me. Morning -- mom. Afternoon -- other. Evening -- mom again.
I do have a rather good, long talk with my sister. It doesn't make up for a visit, but I can almost feel that Warsaw holiday sparkle passing through the Skype waves. Christmas in Poland is a big deal. Not surprising, since upwards of 85% of the population identifies itself as Catholic (the number drops down significantly in Warsaw and only a fraction attends church on a regular basis, nonetheless, Christmas is huge).
I want to bake, because a holiday season without baking is like a chicken without feathers (cold!), but I postpone it once again. This shortest day of them all is so lovely, that I pull out my bike and I follow Ed along the rural roads (a second ride for him!) all the way to Lake Waubesa.
I shout out -- We could go to Christie's Bar (a small local dive on the lake shore), except I dont really want a beer.
Let's split one!
That's embarrassing! Two people walk into a bar and order one beer on tap for $1.50.
We do it anyway.
And then we pedal back.
At the farmhouse we roast chestnuts. Ed tries to convince me that the microwave is good enough for the job. I look at him in horror.
What is the point then? That is a plunge into a cooking abyss I myself will not take!
Tastes good! Here, let's try it!
In reality, they do not taste good when microwaved. I do the standard criss cross on their flat side, stick them in the oven and sit back to the wonderful aroma of roasting chestnuts. Almost like the chestnut stands in New York City, only better!
A few minutes after 4 we go for a walk. For this (at 4:24 or thereabouts):
And this, after the sunset...
What words would you put to winter solstice? Happy winter? Merry short day? How about the same as ever -- stay healthy and in love with life! And to longer days going forward! From our house to yours.
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