What? The Thirteenth?.

December 13, 2021

Twelve inches.

My mother discovered the small Kentucky candy company which has been known as the creator of Modjeskas. In the late 1800’s, the story is that a beautiful Polish actress toured the southern United States. This candy company created a magnificent indulgence of homemade marshmallow covered in unequaled caramel. The confectioners do not bother with fancy labels or wrappings. Only simple waxed paper and relatively simple white boxes cover their creations.

We had ordered candles from the Kentucky company whose building collapsed two days ago during the series of tornadoes which whipped through an alley of southern states.

Twelve inches of new fallen snow surround me. My heart beats with the amorous desire of the season. I am in love with December and Advent and the recent celebration of Hanukkah.

But Kentucky? My neighbor! My neighbor has had its people die in wicked storms.

Heartbreaking.

Berries, monkey bread and Omelets with salsa

I hosted a business meeting in the morning this past week. Every year we meet and every year I cook for them. Since it was morning, I cooked omelets to order (as long as that ‘order’ was chosen from ham, sharp cheddar, onions, spinach or broccoli)!

I’m rather into menus, so I included a mix of fresh berries, orange juice, toast and monkey bread. Oh! And tiny Christmas cookies! I like the combination of cooking, talking and meeting while doing all the above.

(As long as I keep it all simple which makes it all manageable).

My wreath storage project

As I continue preparing and decorating for Christmas, I had also decided to take my time to organize as much as possible as I go along. For example, I’m not sure exactly why I have not hung up wreathes before now. I have storage space in a basement space which hugs the staircase from underneath. It’s a perfect space for plastic totes and storage bags. It also has enough of a full height wall to affix hooks for the wreathes.

Seems like a fairly straightforward solution. I am always surprised that such solutions usually are not so obvious in the heat of the moment and are also of such a nature that a person often thinks ‘tomorrow’.

“Eh, it can wait.” Seems like a satisfactory reaction. The hanging of the wreathes in order to store them – again feels like such an obvious solution. Waiting would hurt no one.

But tomorrow’s have a way of adding up to years!

Again, much if my advice can be boiled down to just do it, don’t fret about not doing it earlier and enjoy the dickens out of it when you do it! Give yourself that gift of chores done and the feeling of following through with what matters to you.

I kind of make this big deal of going outside! So good for the soul. Now given my delight in apparel and clothes and fashion, when it comes to outdoors, I have advice and confession. I confess that I am less than a fashion plate.

From tippy toes to head top, I am combinations of leftover clothes. Maybe someday that will change but I view it as common sense. I have inherited (in reverse) a pair of the best polar boots money could buy. My son out grew them eight years ago. For three years they sat in a closet until I realized that I needed boots and he had gone on to a newer, bigger pair.

I claimed them! The same for the lightweight insulated ice fishing snow pants I found in a plastic tote. I’m fairly certain they weee purchased by my ex-husband. Hm. They too say around for years until I realized any emotion I had tied to them was far outweighed by my desire to go outside and my need for insulated pants.

And on the list went. I wore undergarments from my closet of striped and checked patterns. Layers. Layers are key. And fuzzy warm hats and warm, protected neck scarves. One must keep the wind away from exposed skin.

As I shoveled, my body heated to sweating. It’s not a good idea if you are staying outside for any length of time. But to enjoy an hour or so in thirty degree, sunny weather while working up a sweat?

Oh, it’s heavenly!

I need to remember to set aside time for myself that requires no make-up and less than glamorous pursuits.

Then, the Christmas tree went up. The garland was draped. Lights multiplied in spaces I call my own. I had begun to decorate a bit at a time.

Lights …

Cleaning…

And an unglamorous playtime out in the snow.

I wish you love…

~Stephanie

Published by Stephanie Monka Springborn

Hi. Welcome to my blog, the brick dandelion. I am... just me. Thank you for joining me. Love and Blessings, ~Stephanie

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