The Winter of my Discontent

It’s Saturday morning.  I roll out of bed and slide my feet into my fuzzy granny slippers (as my husband likes to call them).  I shuffle downstairs, make a mug of tea (in my favorite green mug) and curl up on the sofa under a cozy comforter.  I turn on HGTV and talk to myself as I enjoy long sips of tea.

   “See, isn’t this nice?  Isn’t this so cozy and peaceful?  It’s a lazy unhurried Saturday morning.”  I try, I really do but inevitably I sigh and admit that it is not as fun as my Saturday morning ritual May through November.  During those months I hop out of bed early and make my way to the Farmer’s Market where I stroll through sun drenched stalls admiring produce of varying shapes, sizes and colors.

 After making my purchases, which include homemade treats for kitty, I stop at the Tree House stand for a cup of iced coffee and then I stand in line at Tortilla Press for a yummy seasonal flavored quesadilla.  I then take pleasure in my spoils as I watch little girls in spaghetti strap dresses and floppy sun hats dance around to which ever band happens to be playing.  Yes that is my ideal of a perfect Saturday morning.

I didn’t always dislike winter so much.  I think the blizzard and ice storm of 1996 somehow broke my spirit. All of the women in the blogs I love to read have such romantic views of winter.  They speak poetically of knitting sweaters, snuggling beside fires with a good book and flannel clad children and cup after cup of steaming hot tea.  They encourage that winter is the time to slow down and spend more time quietly with God.  It always sounds so lovely and each year I do my best to make an effort to find the good things about cold weather, darker days and grey skies.  My feeble list…

-          Fires in the fire place (due to an ample supply of wood this year we have had a lot of them)

-          Cozy cups of tea

-          A kitty who is more eager to snuggle so she can suck up my warmth (sometimes my husband does too)

-          Chili (because that’s the kind of weather that makes it taste best)

-          A chance to wear my large collection of fuzzy socks

-          The crunching crackling sound that cars make as they drive over ice and snow past our house

  That’s all I can think of at the moment.  I’m sure there could be more but I must admit those things never quite compare to walks on the boardwalk, sandals, hands dirty from planting flowers and tall glasses of lemonade.   I’m doing my best though, learning to be content with and appreciate things even if they aren’t my favorite.