Tag Archives: wool socks

Hygge

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Hygge is pronounced hoo-gah.  Not to be confused with those smoking lounges that seem to be a throwback to the 60’s, this Danish word means “coziness.”  Hygge is apparently a “movement.”  That just makes me want to declare that I have been all about coziness for the last six years.  Ahead of the curve, and I didn’t even know it!

Recently, I read an article in a winter issue of a leading monthly magazine mentioning this word, hygge.  I don’t remember which magazine.  I was in Wisconsin, and I read whatever I can pick up at the folks’ or my sisters’ homes. There is Norwegian heritage there, and when I see something about Scandinavia, my curiosity is peaked.  Anyway, the article included a spread about all things cozy.

Fast forward a couple of weeks, and low and behold, in the Sunday Parade insert, was blurb about hygge, and an explanation that this word implies the idea of “embracing happiness and the positive in everyday life.”  There was a picture of a couple in front of a glowing stove wrapped in thick sweaters and socks.  Well, that is just me all over, except for the couple part.

My winter home wardrobe is thick sweaters and socks, afghans, and sometimes a blanket/shawl around my shoulders…sort of a crone-type outfit.  I have my red Plow and Hearth stove glowing like crazy, fairy lights, and candles burning from dusk to bedtime.   It seems I am the height of fashion and immersed in a current trend!

I have often been told by visitors at my tiny house that it is very “cozy.”  This adjective has been used frequently, and I’m glad.  Cozy is comforting, warm, and friendly.  Living in a hygge haven is a joy.  I’m all about happiness and positivity every day, so, hey, I’ll own it.

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Home for the holidays…

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“There’s no place like home for the holidays, ” as the song goes. That’s for sure. I am fortunate beyond belief. I have “home” in three different states. Wherever I have family is home to me, so when one of my sisters was coming down to NC for her annual December visit, and she said, “Why don’t you come back with me for Christmas,” I was on it.

It is fourteen degrees this morning in Wisconsin. A fresh few inches of snow greets me. It IS beautiful. I fear for my bones, though. I’m not sure if I have mentioned it before, but I am not the firmest on my feet. One of the many benefits of my yoga practice is improvement in balance, but I’m not sure that’s going to help on snow and ice.

I am spending the first Christmas since 1980 with my dad and ’em, as we say down south. Having lived in the milder winter climates of Arizona and North Carolina for the past thirty-something years, I am not prepared for this weather, even though I did bring my Cuddl Duds. My sisters are supplying me with wool socks and sweaters, heavy jeans and jackets; but they drew the line at loaning underwear. As if…

My bones and body many not be warm enough, but my heart will be. God is good. I am home for the holidays, I am definitely having a white Christmas, and the baby Jesus is born December 25, no matter where I am.