Tag: winter

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Winter Solstice

The older I get, the faster time rushes. And there seems to be nothing I can do about it.

Winter Solstice is upon us. In just two days people in the Northern Hemisphere will celebrate the shortest day of the year, the lengthening of the days and the return of spring. And in just two weeks 2022 will end and 2023 will begin. But didn’t we just start wearing sweaters and hard pants? How are we here already? Time is going by too fast for me.

I don’t care if it’s longer days, longer nights, or equal days and nights. I just want my twenty-four hours and I don’t want them to zoom by in a flash, like they seem to be doing, now that I’m an old lady.

I just heard a meditation teacher say that our physical bodies tend to lean forward most of the time, due to our brains’ natural tendency to think about where we need to go, what we need to do next, what’s next on the agenda. And this is why so many of us have trouble sleeping. What’s next? What’s next? What’s next?

Instead, we should be fully participating in what’s happening right now.

So let’s celebrate the seasons, the turn of the calendar page, the natural changes that happen in our world. These things are momentous and magical. Let’s mark those occasions. But let’s also celebrate the morning and the day, our cozy beds, etc., and try not to keen towards spring from now forward. Maybe in that way we can slow the passage of our days.

“A man [or woman] who dares to waste one hour of time has not discovered the value of life.” ― Charles Darwin, The Life & Letters of Charles Darwin

“Those who make the worst use of their time are the first to complain of its brevity.” ― Jean de La Bruyère, Les Caractères

“Sometimes I feel like if you just watch things, just sit still and let the world exist in front of you – sometimes I swear that just for a second time freezes and the world pauses in its tilt. Just for a second. And if you somehow found a way to live in that second, then you would live forever.” ― Lauren Oliver, Pandemonium

If you’d like to see my new paintings online, go here. Be sure to click on the thumbnails to see the whole picture! If you’re looking for my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website. If you enjoy these letters, feel free to forward this one to anyone you think might like it. And if someone forwarded this one to you, you can sign up here to receive the letters right in your Inbox. Finally, you’ll find past letters and poems here.

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”

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Hibernating

Do you find yourself sleeping more these days? I do. Lord! Lately I’ve had marathon sleeps–8 or 9 hours night after night–with record amounts of deep and REM sleep, according to my Fitbit. And then, too, I could easily nap in the afternoon–not at all like me. More like a bear. Or Miles.

At first I put it down to the busyness, stress and exhaustion of the last few weeks, getting ready for my solo show, visitors and Thanksgiving. Maybe I’m just catching up? Or what about allergies? Perhaps now that I get weekly allergy shots I’ll sleep rather than sneeze my way through the winter.

I rebelled against the change to cold weather, as usual, but now I have to admit I’m loving this late fall–the bare branches of trees against a sky that’s bright blue, solid white with clouds, or bursting into color at dawn. But wait a minute! I haven’t been seeing the dawn lately. Day after day I’ve been fast asleep. Just thinking of it now makes me a little wistful for my bed.

I love the early sunset and the long nights, being in for the night by 5:00, preferably in pajamas by 7:30, bed by 9:00. I love the coziness of lighted windows and porches in the dark. One does not even have occasion to use the word “cozy” in spring and summer. I’m almost disappointed that we’re already so close to the Winter Solstice, the return of the light and longer days.

So for now everything about this time of year feels just right. We have four very distinct seasons where I live and each has its own beauty. Oh, I might be singing a different tune when the temperature is 1, feels like -10. But that can be an adventure in its own right. Can we get through it?? There’s always some reward. Right now the reward is that I have a bed and dogs to share it with. I make my own schedule, so I really can sleep for hours if I want. How great is that? Life is good. Sleep is good. Zzzzzz.

Here is one of my favorite passages from the excellent J.M. Barrie book, Peter Pan.

“Mrs. Darling first heard of Peter when she was tidying up her children’s minds. It is the nightly custom of every good mother after her children are asleep to rummage in their minds and put things straight for next morning, repacking into their proper places the many articles that have wandered during the day. If you could keep awake (but of course you can’t) you would see your own mother doing this and you would find it very interesting to watch. It’s quite like tidying up drawers. You would see her on her knees, I expect, lingering humorously over some of your contents, wondering where on Earth you picked this thing up, making discoveries sweet and not so sweet, pressing this to her cheek, as if it were a nice kitten, and hurriedly stowing that out of sight. When you wake in the morning, the naughtiness and evil passions with which you went to bed have been folded up small and placed at the bottom of your mind and on the top, beautifully aired, are spread out the prettier thoughts, ready for you to put on.” ― J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

Think of Mrs. Darling as a part of you, doing this for yourself every night. Wouldn’t it be so nice?

If you’d like to see my new paintings online, go here. If you’re looking for my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website. If you enjoy these letters, feel free to forward this one to anyone you think might like it. And if someone forwarded this one to you, you can sign up here to receive the letters right in your Inbox. Finally, you’ll find past letters and poems here.

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”

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February

February can be a hard month. But many years back, I started something that made February into one of my favorite months. It was really a reset on my part. Tired of the cold and snow, I thought up a February event that would put some sparkle into the month. Sure, there was Valentine’s Day, fine for some. But my event was way better.

I started throwing a big party in February that I called MidWinter’s Eve. I aimed to have it fall on the Saturday night smack in the middle of winter, usually the first weekend in February. Oh, it was grand! I handmade the invitations and they were fabulous. I would have to say that it was kind of a big deal to receive one of those, if I do say so myself.

Since I love gowns and tuxedos and my two best friends did, too, I requested “formal/festive attire.” The three of us were all over it. Rex always wore a tux or a formal Scottish kilt, the whole nine yards. Pam and I searched for gowns, capes (Pam), shoes, jewelry, and accoutrements. Even the dogs wore fancy sparkly things around their necks. But many guests balked. Thus, the invitations’ requests for formal attire grew either more urgent or more accepting of my guests’ moribund reluctance to dress up, as follows.

“FORMAL ATTIRE REQUESTED, i.e., any & every fabulous finery, fine frippery, dashing haberdashery, adornment & accoutrement most warmly applauded, lauded, adored & rewarded.”

“FORMAL ATTIRE MOST PASSIONATELY DESIRED. However, if you are loath to dress formally, i.e., smashing gown, gloves, tiara, top hat & tails, bow tie, etc., so be it. I do what I can to illuminate an otherwise dreary winter. Sadly, the loss will be your own. Please do come anyway. (You know who you are.)”

“For God’s sake, would it kill you to pull out the old top hat & tails, do up your hair, slip on that long, luscious gown, toss a bit of sparkle around your neck, or otherwise fabulously dress up the night? You know you want to.”

I served fancy hors d’oeuvres, cheap caviar, and champagne punch with a decorative ice ring of berries and mint leaves in the bowl. I decorated the house with lots of sparkle and tiny lights. I made party “favors” which were small envelopes containing shiny confetti, an inspiring quote (no surprise there, eh?), and two self-stick labels the guests could wear. One of the labels would say things like “Trickster” or “Mad Hatter” or “Tart” or “Old Soul,” and the other, “Mentally correcting your grammar” or “Will talk your arm off ” or “Placing my thoughts elsewhere” or “Going to Hell in a handbasket.” Etc. Words (of course) constituted the promised mad frivolity.

That party gave me such a creative outlet, so much fun, and something to look forward to in the dead of winter, though I actually planned for it all year round. I always had an eye out for some glitzy, glimmery, shimmery something that would add to the greatness.

Now that Pam and Rex, my two partners in crime, are gone, the party’s lost some of its glittery appeal. Who, now, would enjoy every last bit of the planning, listen to my latest ideas for favors, go shopping for accoutrements? Who would rummage through my underwear drawer during the party and come downstairs with my bra or panties on their head? Who??

And though I haven’t had the party for years, I do manage to feel a little bit cheated of the possibility of having it–because of stupid old dumb old ugly old Covid. Shouldn’t it be my choice? But maybe next year . . . maybe next February I can bring back my fabulous party. You never know. But please! Formal attire requested!
If you’re looking for my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website. And if you enjoy these letters, feel free to forward this one to anyone you think might like it. And if someone forwarded this one to you, you can sign up here to receive the letters right in your Inbox. Finally, you’ll find past letters and poems here.

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”
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A Coat With a Hood

For how many years have I been walking in the woods with dogs, all seasons and practically every day? Nearly twelve. Since I’ve had Miles. Those walks were only occasional and mostly in the fall, before I found Miles of the Running Exploring Loving of All People and All Dogs Exuberant Heart. Miles, who stares at me all morning if we do not go on a nice long walk. Miles, who even though he adores the narrow winding paths in the woods and especially the one along the creek, immediately adjusts his expectations (better than I do) when it becomes clear we’re going on a leash walk only.

Anyway, cold, rain, snow, heat, we’ve been out in all of them. And for the most part, I’ve dressed well for it. I want my feet to stay dry, even if the weather’s hot, so I have hiking boots to wear every day. I wear a ball cap in warm weather to keep the sun off my face and horseflies off my head. My son gifted me with a really good raincoat, since I like to be out in the rain. And I have lots of winter things–down jacket, wool gaiter, ear bands, hats, mittens, hand warmers. But I have never had a warm coat with a hood.

The other day, when it was “9 degrees, feels like -2” (Why doesn’t it say “feels bone crushing” or “feels horrifying”?), I finally saw the folly of trying to stay warm in anything other than a coat with a hood. Why has it taken this long? There were two days in a row that pushed the issue. First, I ran into an acquaintance whose pit bull likes to run along carrying the absolute longest branch he can find. This one was probably 8’ long. It stretched the width of the wide trail we were on. We stood laughing and chatting about her dog. But it was her coat that I focused on. A great big coat with a faux fur trimmed hood. It was not fashionable but it looked absolutely decadent. She said it was almost too warm. I asked where she got it. Bass Pro.

The next day I ran into another dog-walking acquaintance who scolded me for not wearing a hat. I had on an admittedly rather thin ear warmer and a wool gaiter. He catalogued for me what he was wearing: a balaclava, a hat, and two jackets, both with hoods, both of the hoods pulled over his already covered head. We walked together a short while and then came upon two others, both wearing hooded jackets, and of course we talked about the brilliance of the hooded jacket.

That day I went out to Bass Pro, a place I never go, a place where all of the (unmasked) employees were very nice and helpful. And I bought, for $33, a big long, to my knees, hooded coat, outer layer of that tough cotton that ranchers wear. Polyester fill. Tan. Tall, stand-up collar. Hood that stays up without being cinched. Zipper and snaps. Big pockets. Nothing fancy. No down. No faux fur trim. No inner cuffs or anything like that. Just what’s needed, though, and with the added bonus that now we can play Ranch. I’ll be Anna Montana, Miles can be Old Thunder and we’ll be out checkin’ the fence line. We’ve both got a hitch in our giddyup these days, so I won’t ride him. Yeehah!! Thirty three dollars! Warm enough, with my layers underneath. And that hood! Nice and cozy and now that I’ve been schooled, I do wear a hat or ear warmer under it.

How does a person live to be 70 before finally getting a proper coat with a hood? You tell me. I’m shaking my head. But at least that head of mine is warm underneath that hood.

“There’s no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothes.” – Scandinavian wisdom

“Christopher Robin was sitting outside his door, putting on his Big Boots. As soon as he saw the Big Boots, Pooh knew that an Adventure was about to happen, and he brushed the honey off his nose with the back of his paw, and spruced himself up as well as he could, so as to look Ready for Anything.” – A.A. Milne, Winnie the Pooh

If you’re looking for my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website. And if you enjoy these letters, feel free to forward this one to anyone you think might like it. And if someone forwarded this one to you, you can sign up here to receive the letters right in your Inbox. Finally, you’ll find past letters and poems here.

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”

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Uitwaiien!

The sun even looks cold up there.

According to Dictionary.com, “The Dutch compound word uitwaaien means ‘to jog or walk into the wind, especially in the winter, in order to feel invigorated, relieve stress, and boost one’s health.’” It is pronounced “out-vahyn.” I prefer my incorrect pronunciation, OOT-vahyn, since it’s more fun and sounds more like I imagine Dutch to sound. Naturally, upon learning it, this word immediately appealed to my love of language and newfound sense of adventure when it comes to cold weather. Also, I like saying it and so it has become a new addition to my vocabulary.

At this writing, it is 3 degrees, “feels like -11.” The sun even looks cold up there, barely showing through the clouds. Calls for an adventure of some sort, I feel, begs for uitwaiien. I took Miles on a longer than usual neighborhood leash walk, but really? That’s it? Knowing Miles and his preferences and having learned that pajama days are not what they’re cracked up to be, I took care of things at home with a view to going back out for a hike. First, I swept the powdery snow off the front steps, walk, driveway, and car. I filled a dish with warm water and put it on the railing for the birds and squirrels. Yesterday, in anticipation of 2-4” of snow that didn’t materialize, I hauled a 40-lb. bag of black oil sunflower seeds home from the hardware store and filled up the birdfeeders.

There’s the sun in this photo, too, barely visible.

I warmed up my boots, gaiter and mittens on the grate, fed Miles and gave him the anti-inflammatory that his older dog body now requires, and got ready to go back out, handwarmer and treats in my pockets. Exciting! Miles was happy and commented that he was surprised I would go back out in the cold. Oh ye of little faith!

We headed across the bridge with a spring in our step, me practically running to keep up, and even though I was game for a nice little uitwaiien, I imagined it to be a short one. Just a quick, invigorating swing around the meadow. But Miles talked me into going onto the ridge perimeter path and then, even, the ridge trail itself.

I don’t suppose you need to know the whole route.

Suffice it to say we had a lovely hike on this very cold day. Of course, “very cold” is relative. An Iowa friend wrote that it was -15 degrees there, actual temperature! That is a very cold day. I might not feel quite as chipper at -15. I don’t imagine I could live farther north. My eyelashes had little balls of ice on them as it was. But I did not even crack open the handwarmer and Miles, with his curly coat and high degree of energy, was full of all the happy adjectives you could name, and he probably would even be so at -15. He is a great role model for exuberance, in any weather.

The view from the bridge
My friend Julie and I have played singles pickleball this winter in 30 degrees. She carries “little bottles of heat” with her and on New Year’s Eve we had hot chocolate with a little Bailey’s. As she always says, no matter what the weather, “We’re outside and we’re having fun.” The great thing about playing outdoors in winter is that playing hard warms you up, so you can play longer, instead of the other way around.And so, uitwaiien! It’s invigorating and fun! I haven’t gone in for those cold showers or baths that are supposed to be good for your health but I am open to newfangled ideas and I might try it. Why not?

I hope if you are not already a fan of uitwaiien, that you try it out. We have a really cold week coming up that is providing plenty of opportunity, beckoning us, calling each of us by name, “Come, come! Be a polar bear!”

If you’re looking for my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website. And if you like this letter, you’ll find past letters and poems here.

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”
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Pajama Day

We had freezing rain and ice covering everything one recent morning and I knew I would not want to drive to the woods with Miles and thought, really, I did not even want to risk walking on the icy streets. So I decided to have a Pajama Day. I was pretty excited about this idea, as I know people have them and I had always thought I would like to, too, if it weren’t for two dogs staring at me all day long. But now I had an excellent excuse. Not even Miles wanted to step out the door.

I turned up the furnace, had a second cup of tea, and sat on the couch under a thick wool blanket with the dogs, reading my new Mary Oliver poetry book. All very nice and cozy. Rufus liked it, as he likes to be on a soft surface (preferably a lap) in very close proximity to any available human.

“No animal, according to the rules of animal etiquette, is ever expected to do anything strenuous, or heroic, or even moderately active during the off-season of winter.” ― Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows

But by noon or so, I really did not want to be in pajamas any longer. And then, by late afternoon, I was quite tired of being in the house and I told my brother, who has remained pretty much homebound since March, that I was going a little stir crazy. I am used to going outdoors multiple times a day. I’d even played pickleball in 30 degrees on New Year’s Eve. My friend and I always agree that even if it’s cold, we’re outside, we’re moving, having fun, and it’s wonderful to be doing all of those things.

The next day I went out with the dogs, though the day looked pretty much the same as the previous day–everything covered with ice, the sky solid white with cloud, temperature at 27 degrees. And yet, I felt a huge Ahhh as soon as we stepped out. Went to the woods and feasted my eyes on the icy everythings, pressed my cheek and my whole self to my big beautiful tree, and had a lovely ramble along the creek. Once again, I am reminded that, however the day looks from inside the house, it’s almost always nicer to be out in it.

“When you’re sad, Little Star, go out of doors. It’s always better underneath the open sky.” ― Eva Ibbotson, A Countess Below Stairs

If you’re looking for my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website. And if you like this letter, you’ll find past letters and poems here.

It’s nice for me to think of you out there, reading this. I hope you get outdoors as often as you possibly can this winter. As my friend Sally once said, “There’s no bad weather, only bad clothes.”

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”

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The Turn of the Calendar Page

No matter what month it is or is going to be, I love the start of a new one. I love turning the pages of my various calendars over to a new month. It doesn’t matter if a beloved month is coming to an end or the new month marks the end of a season that I’ve particularly enjoyed. There is just something about a brand new month that speaks of possibilities, opening doors, newness, and joy.

This metal calendar is one that I bought at a lovely and now very much missed store here in Columbia, a la campagna. When the pages for that year ran out, I decided to recreate them for the next year and the next. So this is a yearly ritual I observe–the making of the new pages–along with choosing new calendars to hang right here next to my computer and upstairs, by my bed.


I take pleasure in many little things like this, partly because I love the four seasons but partly because I like homey little rituals, down to the protective closing of the curtains at day’s end, my mug of tea with pen and paper in the morning, a bit of meditation with my little dog Rufus on my lap. And the turning of the calendar page at the start of each month.

The last couple of weeks have brought frost to our landscape. If I get out early enough on a bright frosty morning I’m able to capture the sparkle and glow of the last colors of fall and also the look of fairy dust outlining every branch, stem, thorn and fallen leaf. Glorious! Soon there will be no more red or yellow, but there will always be other beauties. So many! And these changes in nature, too, speak to the turning of the Earth, of the clock, of the page.

“What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter
to give it sweetness.”
― John Steinbeck

If you’re interested in my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website.

It’s nice for me to think of you out there, reading this. I hope you, too, have some little comforting rituals in your life, ones that are all yours.

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”

Need to get in touch? Email me: [email protected]

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Pajamas

No I am not despairing despondent of low mood

nor socially anxious reclusive painfully shy

neither fearful of open spaces heights depths

nor phobic of germs bridges dogs air travel cars.

I am not suspicious of black cats sidewalk cracks ladders

obsessed with terrorism crime violence evildoers

nor disdainful of capitalism consumerism modern culture.

I’ve simply become very fond of my pajamas

my bed and its pillows and blankets my mug

of hot tea the blue sofa the quiet lamp the

stories playing on the small bright screen

and the heavy purple curtains pulled shut

around the early long dark winter night.

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Leaving the Bed

And what shall we do

and whom shall we tell

when we do it and when

ever might we return

from the doing and the telling?

And why must we go and do

why must we ever leave

the poufs and puffs of pillows

the piles of down and feathers

the coze and careless comfort

of cotton silk and flannel

of tea and toast of the Lovely Sun

pressing against windows

wanting only to please come in

spread her skirts over the small

house and touch us gently with her

slender fingers?

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Dry Winter

This day so blustery and white of sky
thick with clouds damp of air is
purported to be mostly sunny
a bright yellow image pictured thus
accompanied by a balmy temperature
and yet a thoughtful glance at both the 
calendar and the real world suggests 
snow falling thickly in piles and drifts 
mountains of it covering All
a thing we have not seen once
in this winter of 2011-2012
a milquetoast winter if ever
there has been one.