Leafing through the recipes in my Better Homes and Gardens Magazine, I stopped to read several that focused on Thanksgiving. Recipes, to me, are as good reading as a romance novel. Maybe it’s because I have such a love affair with my taste buds. Like a lover, I like to bring pleasure to them.
Engrossed in the recipe for using your turkey leftovers to make a delicious stuffed loaf of bread, I found myself imagining the setting. The oven heat. Family gathered in the kitchen. Cold outside. Toasty warm inside. Delicious – all of it. And even without a taste of the food to come.
I had an Aha moment then. I don’t like being cold – I mean, who does, really? Yet I have always welcomed winter, regardless of frosty windows on the cars, snow to tiptoe through, extra bundling up as you head out the door. All of it such an inconvenience. But as I imagined that little BHG scene in my home, I realized what it is that I like about winter. It is the contrast of temperatures. And it is in that contrast that you are forced to be grateful and to indulge and feel your senses come alive.
Each night of winter, I warm a corn-filled bag in the microwave and take it to bed with me. There is nothing better than feeling those crisp cold sheets, then snuggling with the comforting warmth provided by my cornbag. And the same with the outdoor extremes. Nothing beats that feeling of the cold being warmed away by the comforts of indoor heat provided by furnace, fireplace or oven. It’s like a hug every time you walk in the door.
Winter forces extremes into my pretty placid, monotonous, safe life. The cold gives me reason to welcome heat and warmth, and I give comfort and nurturing to myself and my loved ones.
A blanket of snow on the ground upon awakening in the morning may mean getting out the shovel, but it brings a childlike thrill to my heart. I can’t imagine living somewhere that snow never falls. Snow is a gift to me, one that I don’t think I will ever tire of. Sledding is one of my favorite activities. Tromping through the snow, sliding down hills and valleys, falling on nature’s cottony bed, then coming in to hot chocolate, homemade cookies, chili – and all the comforts of home.
Yes, I look forward to winter. And when it has had its turn, I will then look forward to its exit. Until then, hand me the shovel and a cookie sheet, and bring on the next season!