And a happy December to you!
(farmhouse Advent calendars will alway have just pictures to tickle your December whimsy; this year there are four here, plus a card to cover the socket -- so, a calendar for each Madison child and one for me; easy to see which one is mine! with thanks to my Ocean friend for these...)
I understand that in Australia, a new season starts with the first day of the month of seasonal change. And so today would be the beginning of winter, were we to go that route. It makes sense. This does not feel like Fall.
Happy December, happy winter!
Cosy breakfast time!
It is the type of weather that keeps you indoors. Just on the cusp of freezing, a thick cloud cover, very still wintry air. The cold comes from the entirety rather than from just the thermometer outside your window.
This is when you hate reading articles about the need for movement. Yes, I can slip on my ballet shoes. Yes, I'll drag out and wipe down the dust covered pedals of my couch bike. But this is not what the wise docs mean by movement. I should be biking, hiking, lifting plants from the soil -- spring and summer stuff. But here we are, in winter, without the snow, without the enthusiasm to be outside.
I blame the furnace, the tree, and the candle. Way too pretty and snug. When hygge is so full of comfort and charm that it keeps you rooted to your home, then you have to ask yourself -- is there such a thing as too much hygge?
In the Little Book of Hygge (written by Meik Viking, the CEO of the Happiness Research Institute in Copenhagen), a hygge manifesto lists ten essential principles: Atmosphere, Presence, Pleasure, Equality, Gratitude, Harmony, Comfort, Truce, Togetherness, and Shelter.
When you get down to specifics, the advice is to get comfy, to be here now -- without your phone, to turn down the lights and bring out the candles (despite air quality issues, most Danes burn many candles from October through March), to build relationships, and to give yourself a break from the demands of healthy living -- with the reminder that "cake is most definitely hygge."
This is all good, but winter is long and breaking from the demands of healthy living cannot last for half the year.
Reluctantly, therefore, we go out for a walk. In the neighborhood. Briskly, cutting through the prairie on the return. (The view of the barn from here in the wintertime is downright... spooky!)
But I bring out the gingerbread for lunch. I'm back on track to fulfill my hygge dreams!
There's one more obligatory December task -- and may I remind you, it is December! -- I promised myself I'd wrap family presents: one person's gifts each of the nine first days of the month. I start off with Sandpiper today because his are bulky and not fun to do (the little guy loves big trucks, and no, he does not read Ocean!). Well, except for this little add-on:
I am going to get the reputation of being the grandma who wraps in brown. I've been trying to avoid the colorful sparkly papers for a while now, because you can't recycle them. Besides, I also do not like picking unique papers for each kid, because they always pick favorites, and chances are high that the favorite will be another child's paper, not their own. This year, they'll all get the same (brown!) paper. Only the color of the ribbon changes. Sandpiper is stuck with sage green.
In the afternoon, I pick up the two kids.
It's their crazy lesson day and still, despite the rushed schedule, we pause for ice cream at our local coffee shop. It is our Friday tradition. Hygge, meet Miami white, with black and white chairs for contrast.
(and then home...)
Where the calendars await...
(right about now is when a wet snow begins to fall...)
Once the boy is at his lesson, playing his violin, and the girl is dancing, I step out for a quick walk in the shopping neighborhood where I'm to wait for the lesson's end. It's pretty here in December!
I stop over at Steve's and study the liqueurs: an Austrian Stone Pine Liqueur of the Alps. And one from Sardinia -- made with myrtle berries, sweetened with sugar, but also honey. This, perhaps added to a bit of white wine for a kir vin blanc, is the more perfect aperitif on a winter night. More boozy concoctions would probably be even more "cosy," but at my age, you have to save that for only the most special occasions.
A December day. Welcome, winter.
with love...
