I like the idea of alpenglow in the winter sun. I have tried it and no, I am still not going to end my showers cold. Lovely post and I enjoyed the reflections on comfort.
I love your meandering creative attentive mind, Fran, and all your reflections here on comfort. I do not like winter anymore after living in warmer climates for much of the past 17 years, first on the island of Malta in the Mediterranean for three years than in Florida (with a brief spell in Maryland between those places). Now that I am off to Barcelona, winter might be a bit cooler than Florida but still not like the New York winters of my childhood or the bitterly cold, dark Swedish winters I endured in the 22 years I lived there (Sweden has many charms; its long dark winters are not one of them).
Although there is a great Swedish idiom you would appreciate: Det finns inget dåligt väder, bara dåliga kläder! Translation: There’s no bad weather, only bad clothing.
I appreciated your poetry, the inclusion of the little story of Mel Robbins and the idea of "living with velocity," (great phrase) and especially the section on writers and comfort. There is much here in this post to lend comfort!
Thank you, Amy, for taking the time to write such a comprehensive note. I still remember, 50 years on, the Berkeley college catalog saying the winters are "colder than anyone expects." I like winter, for the spareness of the weather, the tracery of bare trees, the emptiness of scoured pavement. Remember, "thou winter winds, thou art not so unkind as man's ingratitude."
So true that the want of comfort increases as we age. My chair is next to the fireplace and the remote to the gas fire is on the arm of my chair. Covered by my two knitted blankets, my shivering self gets all nice and toasty. Then too toasty. It only takes about an hour and then, with the convenience of all conveniences, I click the fire off. So very different from when we heated with wood. My back can't handle chopping and carrying firewood every day. Now we're so spoiled, I don't think I can even wield an axe anymore.
Wood fires are an environmental disaster, but I miss them, especially the scent. I used to heat and cook on a wood stove in my suburban/urban house, but eventually I replaced it with a gas model. I liked that it had a remote. I could be lying in bed upstairs and start the stove when I woke up.
True, so easy to click that button, until the battery dies. My poor husband was so stoked about the gas fireplace, he wanted to impress his sister and BIL by clicking and starting the fire. Nothing! They both had a great guffaw at his expense.
And I have to admit you're right about wood stoves being environmental disasters. If only the dead wood dropped on the forest floor was the source, it would clean out the wildfire fuels. And orchardists forced to hew down their trees because of water usage is deeply troubling. Even so, there was a trailer park in Truckee where the smoke was so thick, we had to hold our breaths while driving past it. People these days don't understand how much cleaner our air is than it was in the days of wood stoves, factories, and the early cars before smog controls.
Thank you so much for this. I am going to start believing that I am powerful. I say that I can only do what I can do, but without much conviction that it matters. Time to start believing.
“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us," --Marianne Williamson
The quote has been attributed to folks like Gandhi and Mandela, but it is from Williamson's 1992 book, "A Return to Love," about A Course in Miracles:
I like the idea of alpenglow in the winter sun. I have tried it and no, I am still not going to end my showers cold. Lovely post and I enjoyed the reflections on comfort.
I love your meandering creative attentive mind, Fran, and all your reflections here on comfort. I do not like winter anymore after living in warmer climates for much of the past 17 years, first on the island of Malta in the Mediterranean for three years than in Florida (with a brief spell in Maryland between those places). Now that I am off to Barcelona, winter might be a bit cooler than Florida but still not like the New York winters of my childhood or the bitterly cold, dark Swedish winters I endured in the 22 years I lived there (Sweden has many charms; its long dark winters are not one of them).
Although there is a great Swedish idiom you would appreciate: Det finns inget dåligt väder, bara dåliga kläder! Translation: There’s no bad weather, only bad clothing.
I appreciated your poetry, the inclusion of the little story of Mel Robbins and the idea of "living with velocity," (great phrase) and especially the section on writers and comfort. There is much here in this post to lend comfort!
Thank you, Amy, for taking the time to write such a comprehensive note. I still remember, 50 years on, the Berkeley college catalog saying the winters are "colder than anyone expects." I like winter, for the spareness of the weather, the tracery of bare trees, the emptiness of scoured pavement. Remember, "thou winter winds, thou art not so unkind as man's ingratitude."
So true that the want of comfort increases as we age. My chair is next to the fireplace and the remote to the gas fire is on the arm of my chair. Covered by my two knitted blankets, my shivering self gets all nice and toasty. Then too toasty. It only takes about an hour and then, with the convenience of all conveniences, I click the fire off. So very different from when we heated with wood. My back can't handle chopping and carrying firewood every day. Now we're so spoiled, I don't think I can even wield an axe anymore.
Wood fires are an environmental disaster, but I miss them, especially the scent. I used to heat and cook on a wood stove in my suburban/urban house, but eventually I replaced it with a gas model. I liked that it had a remote. I could be lying in bed upstairs and start the stove when I woke up.
True, so easy to click that button, until the battery dies. My poor husband was so stoked about the gas fireplace, he wanted to impress his sister and BIL by clicking and starting the fire. Nothing! They both had a great guffaw at his expense.
And I have to admit you're right about wood stoves being environmental disasters. If only the dead wood dropped on the forest floor was the source, it would clean out the wildfire fuels. And orchardists forced to hew down their trees because of water usage is deeply troubling. Even so, there was a trailer park in Truckee where the smoke was so thick, we had to hold our breaths while driving past it. People these days don't understand how much cleaner our air is than it was in the days of wood stoves, factories, and the early cars before smog controls.
Thank you so much for this. I am going to start believing that I am powerful. I say that I can only do what I can do, but without much conviction that it matters. Time to start believing.
“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us," --Marianne Williamson
The quote has been attributed to folks like Gandhi and Mandela, but it is from Williamson's 1992 book, "A Return to Love," about A Course in Miracles: