While the perennials are sheltered in the basement for two months now, the colder season will eventually show its true color. I anticipate white very soon. The holiday and winter season promises snow here in Missouri at some point. A white Christmas is what we sing about, but not always experienced. We have a 1 in 5 chance for the white fluffy stuff on Christmas Day. Dean and I experience the holiday lights and a “white-out” during an evening drive partaking in white snowman cookie and hot white chocolate from Starbucks. The white-out is fake snow, just simulating the real thing. I continue to take care for our perennials. Since I last wrote in this blog we welcomed a new white planter of lilies, mini roses, and a succulent sent as kind gesture as my mother passed away late in October. It is not doing so well in the living room, so I will move it under the plant lights downstairs. As I begin to address holiday cards I sing … “I’m dreaming of a white Christmas, with every Christmas card I write, may your days be merry and bright, and may all your Christmas’ be white …“ As with the magic of snow, I anticipate Jesus’ coming for this Advent season, showering of real blessings. The real deal, nothing fake about it.
We got through January with bouts of snow, ice, and cold rains. But the first two days in February softened up to temps in the 70’s by Super Bowl Sunday. What a gorgeous and glorious weekend. On Saturday I opened my eyes in the wee hours like a work day while the first February sunrise greeted me in its pink hues, flirting the Valentine’s Day’s colors. I had plans to get the house thoroughly cleaned after being away for the 2 weekends previous. I accomplished that but made the time to pull out the Valentine decorations. The big Valentine red heart wreath went on the turquoise door. An adorable welcome!
The neighborhood outdoor grills fired up on Sunday in celebration of the grand weather and football game. After church, Dean and I went outside for some outdoor chores. Dean washed layers of salt and junk off the car. It is spiffy and shiny now! I sanded a couple of outdoor furniture pieces. The old metal-framed glider that came with the house and carport finally had a sander workout. Down to some pretty smooth cedar planks. A coat of stain and varnish will go on the cedar planks after I finish sanding the metal frame and a coat of enamel on the frame. Most likely an early spring project after the frame color choice is decided on and more warm weekends.
A little child’s chair used as a perch on the front porch was a less than $10 purchase at a French Town antique shop last spring. It apparently had a layer of paint quickly brushed on it before I bought it. The paint peeled terribly when the cold weather arrived this past autumn. So I set the poor thing in the basement and waited for a break in the weather to sand and repaint it. Sunday was the day to get it started. A coat of white primer after the sanding. And then for artistic impression, “nifty turquoise” to match the front door. My mid-week artist’s project, painting will be a great diversion from this crazy world.
February is obviously a red month. Why look at the KC Chiefs, the Super Bowl champions! A sea of red confetti at the game and parades. Oh, we cannot forget Red Dress Day this Friday. Always the first Friday in February. Wear that red and be good to your heart. So the gray winter gets a splash or two of color, and I love it. The red and turquoise palette suits you well, February!
No winter-like simulation now, it is the real deal. The winter weather seems to be sticking around for more than a few days. Icy, sleety, and snowy last week, and again this week dipping into the teens overnight and staying below or close to freezing during the day. Due to budget constraints our winter vacation week was decidedly best to stay in our home state of Missouri this year. No expensive sandy beaches to sunbathe on. Making the most of our budget and what our state has to offer during this winter season, Dean and I chose to visit our state’s Ozark Mountains. Most of our vacation budget is for a lovely lodge in the woods, the journey there only a 5-hour drive from home. Home-cooked meals prepared in a well-stocked kitchenette, and an occasional meal out satisfy us both. Every night a vignette of soft lights dot the mountain sides from the valley we are nestled in.
Dean and I venture out on half-day trips for a couple of days, visiting small towns and cousins. We went target shooting at an outdoor range one afternoon. We meander into northern Arkansas part of the week. Naked hardwood trees, pines, and cedars clothe the mountains along with icicled cliffs and crags much like glittered ornaments. Flowing valley streams, swooping birds of prey, and cattle feeding in the fields are the only movement around. Dormancy is what we experience, and what we need. Oxford’s online dictionary defines dormancy … “the state in which a plant is alive but not actively growing” and with this sentence example “dormancy allows woody plants to survive these unfavorable conditions”.
The quiet, unassuming beauty of the woods in dormancy stills my busy body, mind, and soul. Very present moment several times each day, a retreat without structure. Just being, breathing in and out, and audibly awake. It is not necessary to block out the static and noise of my job, the house, and almost no obligations as I am far enough away from these occupations. Words come in and out on occasion, Dean and I relating this quiet vacation week to our retirement years. Some words make a page in my journal, and others are just thoughts in dormancy for a later writing in favorable conditions and more life lived.
This year I am ending the summer season of my wellness career. The autumn season of my career follows, short and sweet like Missouri’s autumns with the winter season close behind. The dormant season always emerges into a glorious spring song. A book of collected letters, Letters To A Young Poet, poet Rainer Maria Rilke urges the young budding poet, Franz Xavier Kappus to look inward and know what motivates his own writing. Rilke encourages the development of a rich inner life which is the process of creative art. “Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.” ~ Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet. In today’s words, live today, be present moment. Some answers come eventually.
New Year’s Day it is! Morning is trying to wake up this first day of 2020. Slow, or it seems. A cup of hot chocolate and whipped cream awaken all my senses, warm me along with my Life Is Good long-sleeve t-shirt and leggings. I cannot sleep this weekday holiday. I awoke at 4:30am like it was a work day. The sun finally peers above the two-story houses across the street while sitting in our small cottage’s living room. My blogging urge comes. Reflection of 2019 was last night before I fell asleep on the couch. This morning it is looking forward.
What is to be my occupation in 2020 beside getting through this predicted long winter? Last week I came across this Sinclair Lewis quote, “Winter is not a season, it’s an occupation.” For those who live in the cold regions, or have cold-induced angioedema like myself, this rings true. Reading, researching, journaling, writing, blogging, bookkeeping, and filing will be my occupation the next 3 months before the growing season. I may work on a jigsaw puzzle for a change. Maybe this mindless occupation will bring clarity and direction. All are warm indoor activities.
Dean and I are looking to our retirement years, how soon is the big question. I have exhausted my energy and drive at my government job. Too many politics and bosses to please, and why? I just want to focus on the holistic well-being of those people God has or will place in my life, my purpose in living. I will retire this autumn, with plans to find more enjoyable employment using my organizational skills for another 10 years, retire fully at age 70. My thoughts are I will probably use my human resources management, non-profit, and/or hospitality experiences in a combination of occupations. Desired is a Masters in Creative Non-Fiction Writing at my alma mater, Lindenwood University. This can be obtained with classroom or online courses. There is a 50% discount for students age 60 or over. My 60th comes in August.
The other question is whether to move south to at least a little warmer area after my retirement, and how far south to reside. Dean and I love our home state of Missouri, lived here all our lives. Maybe southern Missouri, Arkansas, Kentucky, Tennessee, or Texas will be where we will find our new home, in a less populated area? We are reading about and visiting various locations in 2020. My current read is the The Body Keeps Score, authored by world-renown Bessel Van der Kolk, MD. This book addresses the physical and psychological aspects of trauma. This is helping me understand my own past trauma and the trauma of others as well as the hope of healing. The book I started writing this past summer has come to a halt while I work through this healing. With our travels, I hope to occupy a writer’s retreat in the spring to continue this work.
What direction are you going in 2020 and into this decade? What will occupy your time and energy? Are you living your life with purpose? I ask for God’s light to guide you.
The winter chill came a month early in Missouri, and I believe most of the Midwest. The perennials came indoors to their wintertime home. The last of the ketchup and mustard rose buds were snipped and put in a shot glass, my make-shift bud vase. A welcome greeting in the kitchen. We have space for only one of perennials, our arrowhead in our little cottage living room. And how it has grown during the summer months and brief autumn weeks outdoors as we place it under the front window. The other plants are housed in the temperate climate of the basement under a plant light set on a timer. Much like the wintertime shedding that a pine tree goes through in this region, our perennials shed during the winter indoors. My pot of colorful lantana and geraniums dropped many leaves, but are still blooming.
I feel like my perennials and the outdoor plants during the winter. A major adjustment to the climate change. Many people with auto-immune disorders have worsen arthritic symptoms during the cold season. For some, the pain is much worse. Depression can set in. If you are not into gardening, I suggest to have just one potted geranium, Christmas cactus or another succulent to share life with this winter. With winter there is loss of luster, but an indoor plant may produce a bloom or two despite the season. Kind of like some of us people folk.
I have held up fairly well this very cold winter season. I kept busy indoors with a 1000-piece puzzle, reading, writing, vacation planning, and even a couple of hand-written letters placed in the mail box. You know, the old-fashioned way of communicating! My interior decorating picked up again, with our newest additions a chaise and lace-paneled screen for my boudoir, as well as a vintage stained glass window for the wall above the buffet in the living room. It brightens the room up with the sun on it; swirls of purple, blue, and golden yellow reflect into the cottage. Just what my soul needed … color! Having just a little spring fever …
Oh, but there is the love of dirt, too! I am anxious to get outdoors to dig in the dirt, sow seeds, plant flowers, move onto exterior decorating, and feel the fresh air and sun on my face. Daylight savings time began this past Sunday, and the Spring Equinox is a week away! Do you think the weatherman and mother nature saw the calendar, too? I sure hope so! No springtime snows and frigid cold blasts, please!
This will be our first spring in our little St. Charles cottage. Signs of green popped up a couple of snowstorms ago. I believe they are daffodils throughout the front and back yards. Bursts of yellow in a few days! I am sprucing up the indoor plants at home and at the office, trimming dead branches and topping the pots with fresh potting soil this week and next. My green friends have done well under the plant lights in the basement, where it is not quite as cold as the barely heated garage at the other house. And no feline friends to perch themselves in the potted plants! My citrus tree, bird-of-paradise, ferns, and other potted perennials will go outdoors when the threat of frost is past, late in April.
Plans for very old awnings to come down, painting weathered window frames, window cleaning, and new fencing are on the top of the list of outdoor chores this spring and summer. But the other chore, which to me is so much fun, is yard designing with the existing garden beds, as well as the choices and placement of garden art. One of my childhood friends from Minnesota sent me a photo of her little mini greenhouse in the midst of an autumn snowfall, the sun gorgeously set behind it filtering through the autumn leaves and windows. It brought to life the desire to build such a potting shed, maybe a bit of a “she-shed” where I can play in the dirt and plants. But also to sit and relax on a comfy chair sipping herb tea, my writing journal, and pen among the birds, butterflies, and blooms.
Ice hit the concrete sidewalks and streets last Sunday morning, like many other wintry mornings in Missouri. Looking outside the red twig dogwood glistened. Dean and I waited a bit for temperatures to increase, and then managed to get to church. It is an oxymoron, winter’s warmth. It is what winter does for us. Brings us indoors after weathering the cold, ice, and snow. Much like life. The warmth of home lures us back to comfort and simplicity. “Sitting inside the warm, pleasant kitchen while icy rain beat against the window, I felt the wordless contentment of a horse in a stable or a wren in a birdhouse,” Gretchen Rubin writes. Another author Dominique Browning contemplates, “the banal moments of the day are the most seductive to me. It is in the lighting of a fire on a cold morning, or in the pouring of wine and the pulling up of chairs to read together at the end of an afternoon of errands, that love really exerts its magic.”
I miss a fireplace or wood stove to snuggle to in our little cottage, but have little niches in every room of our 4-room dwelling that seduce me. My favorite room is the kitchen. “So let’s dish out saucy praise for the place of crazy salads, spicy endearments, whispering souffles, sweetmeats, tender loins, and sticky fingers. That whirring, blending, mixed-up, soul-stirring, juice-dripping, hot-hearted room (the kitchen),” Dominique Browning writes in her book Slow Love. Kind of spicy, you say. That is what cooking in the kitchen does for my heart. Another weekend snow has developed this afternoon. Mini cheese-stuffed meatloaves, sweet potatoes, and banana-oat bread will grace our table this evening. Tomorrow I will chop fresh veggies to saute with Italian sausage for Italian stone soup accompanied with fresh-from-the-oven bread sticks. A casserole dish of homemade mac & cheese with a bowl of buttered edamame will be Sunday’s dinner.
I have plenty of library books to peruse and a jigsaw puzzle to piece together for this long weekend of winter warmth. Besides Dean and I have each other to keep the fire going …
The weather people have been telling us about this big winter storm coming to our region by the weekend. Amazing how they can view the weather patterns over the ocean and predict conditions 5 days out and 2,000 miles away. Sleet, ice, and snow in that order. Well, they are right about a winter storm. Although snowflakes started a couple of hours ahead of their initial timeline, and the precipitation is snow rather than sleet. Too cold for sleet and ice. Thank God! But much more snow than first thought, now close to a foot by the end of the storm.
I am in the comforts of my home, and no plans to go out this weekend. Church may not be attended on Sunday. Much depends on the city’s plowing services. Just heard one go by. The neighbor boy cleared the walking path to the street late afternoon yesterday, and my Dean cleared it again this afternoon. We are ready if we had to go out.
So home equals comfort, the warmth of good food, robes, blankies, and candles. We went grocery shopping a couple of evenings ago based on the forecast, along with many others by the long checkout lines. Freshly baked orange-cranberry scones for breakfast, the buttery aroma enveloped our home. And then homemade chicken veggie soup for lunch. Relaxing this afternoon, so leftovers will do for dinner tonight. A veggie lasagna will be made for Sunday dinner. A couple of library books at hand, a decorating one caught my fancy today, Cozy Minimalist Home. I am writing with the warming orange flicker of the candlelight nearby. The song birds are feeding outside the window before tucking in for the night. At this moment I would not trade this to a secluded sunny beach. See how many more snow days before I change my mind! Right now, all is good!
I awoke after another restless night’s sleep. A combination of a urinary tract infection and my SI joint giving me troubles. I would rather stay in my warm bed to try for some more shut-eye. But job duties call despite how I feel. I am doing all my doctor has recommended. Need let the antibiotics do their job, think on positive thoughts, trust God, and just to rest. For me “just rest” is the hardest order to follow.
I move out the front door with purse and lunch tote in my gloved hands. A crusty morning, a crunch under my boots as I walked to the car. Yes, a thin sheet of ice under snow covered the sidewalk and car. I turn and see the winter porch decor dazzled with ice, too. Oh, the festive mood I wanted to be in for this holiday season. And the ice-capped snowman’s morning greeting did it. Just the simple things in life. I am ready to get through my day.
The sun wants to come out to play, but the gray clouds hold the sunshine back. Glimpses of yellow daffodils appeared a day ago, but today they keep their heads covered as the veil of cold conceals them. At dusk snow flakes mutter winter’s last moan. What happened to yesterday’s rain showers and thunderstorm? Is Spring hiding?