Hygge
It’s 5:30 in the morning and the thermometer reads 19 degrees. That gave me a start for a minute or two but then I looked around me and saw a fire burning brightly in the woodstove. My breakfast of cocoa and toast from bread I made, spread with butter. Real butter made from real milk that came from real cows living on real farms. Not something Fabio squinted at while the wind blew artistically through his flowing locks of hair.
I’m sitting in my recliner, it took Tom and I a few stores worth of recliners to find a pair that fit us both just right but we did it. Alongside my chair is the sofa with it’s own ottoman to put your feet up on. Then there’s a basket full of quilts. One cross stitched and tied by me, one hand stitched by Kyle, two others I found at an estate sale sewn by a grandmother teaching her granddaughters how to sew. I don’t know why the girls don’t have the quilts but I’m more than happy to welcome all the love that went into their making into my home.
Across from me is a wall of books, not all our books, we have them in every room but some of my favorites are here. History books, Agatha Christie, Dick Francis, James Herriott and Ben Green. Is there anything cozier than curling up in your favorite chair, under a quilt with a good book on a morning the thermometer says 19?
Later, when it’s daylight, we’ll go and feed everyone and check they’re all still present and accounted for. Then pack up the chainsaws and go fill the truck with a load of firewood so tomorrow morning when I look at the temperature I can sit back in my chair and enjoy my cuppa tea.
Where is hygge in your home? Candy
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