Can you smell that smell?

Today, as I was walking through the parking lot toward my neighborhood grocery store I was snapped out of my mental grocery list rundown by a most subtle and beguiling smell. No, it wasn't the usual rotisserie chicken and wedge fries-to-go that scented the air, it was the the smell of an evergreen forest on a cool winter day. I followed my nose and there in plain view was confronted by the ultimate proof of how close we really were to Christmas. Freshly cut Christmas trees in various sizes and varieties leaned against the store walls, lay in heaps on wooden pallets and unwittingly did what they do best, make us feel that un-describable pang of nostalgia. Oh I know,they are a pain to drag into the house, their needles fall and make a mess for months, you have to remember to water them and often times they start to look tired before you are ready for them to. But that smell!!

I have to admit that we too caved a few years ago and finally went the artificial tree way. We spent almost 30 years driving to various lots to find just the right specimen or to the cut-your-own establishments to get one as fresh as they come. And yes, I was the one that finally put that good thing to an end. Years of sweeping pine needles from corners, under carpets and from the inside of the car trunk (you have to get the tree to the tree recycling depot somehow after you missed the curb pick-up date) had to finally become a memory. I had given in to a few years of " Not this year, one more year, please?" And how could I blame them? I had my own memories of a fragrant, fresh, cool tree coming into the house and setting the mood for the next week or two by its heady smell and regal presence. But now, it is at times like the one today when I walked by a stand of freshly cut trees that I returned to early childhood, my own and my children's and to the way Christmas smelled then.
If you are still one of the brave and determined ones that venture out into the bitter cold to hunt down just the right tree for your home, here are some things you may learn.

The white stuff

The picture outside my window shows rain, as it has since yesterday evening. The picture on the Weather Channel is a raindrop along side a snowflake. It had to happen sooner or later, the fist snow has to come sometime. Even though we are located in the southern-most part of Canada we've had our share of the white stuff most winters.
I have vivid memories of skidoos driving down Wyandotte St. E circa 1974 and my mother walking home after having walked for over an hour to get to work, not trusting that her car would make it through all the snow. We've had some unusually warm winters too, like the one around 15 years ago when it was warm enough on Christmas Eve for me to dash outside in my shorts in order to throw out the garbage. But, as much as I don't like the cold, there is something unnatural about temperatures that hover above 10 degrees in the thick of winter. Maybe I'm channeling my early childhood, but even I feel a certain sense of anticipation when the weather man calls for the first snow of the season.
Here's a clip from The Snowman, an animated British film about a boy and a snowman. I don't know why but when the kids were small, I looked forward to watching it as much as they did. If you have children between 3-10, I'm sure they will love it.

Have yourself a zen-like little Christmas

Christmas shopping can be your greatest pleasure or your worst nightmare depending on how late in the season you've left your shopping till. For many years now, I have vowed to have all the gifts purchased and wrapped before the end of November. Unfortunately, this year again, will not be the year that that comes to pass. Even though I've been keeping my eyes open for the perfect "thing" for those on my shopping list since September, and have slowly accumulated a sizable pile in my newly "extra" bedroom, there are still a few things that need picking up. I feel relatively at ease and don't feel the panic  rising yet, as it has many times in the past. The ritual of doing a book exchange in lieu of gift giving has slowed down the frantic pace of shopping and forces me into one of my favourite places in the world. The only dilemma becomes finding a book that you think will appeal to the person whose name you've drawn. But imagine the bliss while having to find it. Often times, I find a pile to add to my wish list in the process. And think of the coffee that needs picking up while on your way out the door. Books in one hand, a tall Mocachino in the other; does Christmas shopping get any better when time is on your side?
Well friends, its November 28th, exactly 26 shopping days left before you need to resort to your local Mack's Milk. If you plan it right,you can have a zen-like 26 days in preparation for the big day. Hmmm, books, coffee, tea, lotions and potions from the Body Shop? Who says you can't treat yourself in the process?

Poetry for Christmas

I had a poem written for me today. I simply reached into a basket, picked out three random words and quickly though of three more that I associated with the ones in my hand. The poet wrote them all down and within five minutes used them all to created a masterpiece. And you thought you could only find ceramic Christmas trees at a holiday art fair!
I wondered the halls of the Vollmer Complex and gazed at the many hand crafted wares available for sale. I was in my element. It is holiday art fairs such as this that help me get in the Christmas mood each year. The rain could have been snow, but when inside the building there was no mistaking the time of year. People were picking up, putting down, admiring at arm's length, chatting with the artists and on many occasions even reaching for their wallets.
It was right at the end of one of the corridors that I finally spotted the table I had been most interested in seeing. A poet friend of mine was participating in the show as part of a group of writers. They were reading examples of their work and also offered Poetry On Demand. What fun!
I reached into the basket and after taking longer than I should have to free associate three more words, I handed over my contribution and put them to work. Talk about watching alchemy at work. I could not observe the glassblowers, jewelry makers, or the photographers at work but there I was looking on as the words which were just letters strung together moments before took on the shape of meaning.
Here is just one:(Hand-Heart, Flower-Tulip, Hair-Cut)

Can you feel it?
Inspiration blooms around you
in the colours of a tulip
fearless flower of spring
Flows from your heart
to your writing hand
Makes you shiver
like a fresh breeze
on the back of your neck
after a good hair cut.

And you wonder why it made me smile!
Here's a you tube look at one of my favourite non-local poets. You may consider giving a book of poetry as a Christmas gift. I know I will!

Non-traditional traditions

I spent the afternoon today baking with my mother. Christmas is only four weeks away and time will be more at a premium the closer we get to December 24th. There was no better time than this afternoon to bake the traditional piernik. It is always baked early, wrapped well and frozen or refrigerated until it makes it's debut on Christmas Eve.We planned on baking two and cutting each into three portions, yielding enough for ourselves and several to give away as gifts.
The decision was made to start just after lunch and I came prepared with a couple of extra bowls, spatulas and a fresh box of baking powder. The recipe was laid out prominently and all the ingredients stood pre-measured and at the ready the moment I walked in. I rolled up my sleeves and as my mother tied an apron around my waist I envisioned generations of women in our Polish family mixing the same ingredients and participating in the sacred piernik ritual. As I took a better look at the yellowed recipe scotch taped to a page of a loose leaf binder I remarked at it's obvious age and asked where it had been cut out from.
"Oh I don't really remember," my mother said, "one of those Polish woman's magazines I suppose."
I must have looked stricken. "Do you mean this is not the recipe my babcia made at Christmas," I asked.
"Oh my goodness no," she said. "Have you seen how long and complicated those recipes look? It would take days and I just don't have the time or patience for all that fussing. Your grandmother did not have an electric mixer, does that mean I should stir the batter by hand too?"
"Well, is this the recipe you've been making since you started to bake it," I asked.
" I don't remember," she said again. "I tried it this way and that, but I finally settled on this recipe because it's so simple and always turns out well."
I leaned over the binder again and deciphered the name at the top. Jewish Honey Cake it said. I had to sit down.
"What about the Greek Fish we eat on Christmas Eve," I asked, "and the red borscht?"
"Hmm, I do remember that lovely couple I met when we first came to Canada,' she said, 'I don't remember their name right now, but she served this wonderful fish one day and I asked for the recipe. I have made it for Christmas ever since then,' she said. 'And, the borscht, I always add the pickled plums and red wine. My mother didn't do that, but I think it tastes better that way.'
I returned to the counter and added all the ingredients in the order prescribed in the recipe for Jewish Honey Cake from a 1980's magazine published in Polish by a Toronto publisher. I put the batter in the oven and drank coffee with my 83 year old mother as we waited for the traditional Polish Christmas cake to finish baking.Here's a look at a Polish woman making a traditional piernik. You may not understand her but you will get the idea. If you'd like a really simple version that always turns out well, let me know.

The Soup Nazi

Some people say they could live on it all year round. Most people say it's their favourite winter meal. I only learned to like it, sort of, after getting married. And even then, it has to be just the right kind on just the right kind of day before I'll say yes to soup. Old wife's tales and increasingly often the medical profession tout the healing qualities of chicken soup. Some cultures espouse the aphrodisiac or fertility properties of certain soups. I usually eat it to keep warm. I guess I'm missing something. It must be a genetic predisposition that I'm lacking, something related perhaps to the gene that makes me hate cilantro.
So, inspired by a dish that I saw being made on TV last night, I went out today in search of a pork hock. No simple soup for me, I thought. There will be plenty of time for that once the weather gets really cold. Today I will serve up a delicious German inspired meal. You see, you can do so many things with this particular cut of the pig. According to the very competent looking chef, you can make a delicious dinner using this succulent meat and just a few things that you should always keep in your pantry such as cabbage, sour kraut and Annis seed.  Having spent an unexpected hour roaming the city in search of pork hock, I had little time to hunt down the rest. There I was pork hock in the fridge and the clock steadily ticking toward dinner hour.
Adamant that I would come up with a dish worthy the hour I spent driving around town, I scoured the internet for ideas. Many recipe sites and some helpful facebook friends helped me narrow my options down to baked beans and split pea soup.  I think you will not be too surprised to find out which won out.  Who knows, it may be one I'll add to my soup repertoire. If not, I'm sure my husband, who happens to be one of those that could live on the stuff year round, will be happy that sour kraut is not a staple of my pantry.

Stew

There's not too many things I look forward to more than a sloppy bowl of stew on a cold winter day. The beef is fragrant and soft and wonderful on it's own but even better when paired with other comfort food like mashed potatoes or yams to absorb all those delicious juices. Every family has their own way of preparing the famous dish and I 'm no exception. After many years of trial and error, the family's voice had spoken and it said it preffered Nona's beef stew. I used to dredge the meat in seasoned flour, brown it and stew it in the oven or on top of the stove with stock, onions, carrots, potatoes and peas.It seems that method did not compare to Nona's. Now, I simply brown the beef pieces in hot oil, add onions and carrots, beef stock and a couple tablespoons of tomato paste. Of course we can not forget the rosemary. It would not be Nona's beef stew without the rosemary. The whole mixture stews on top of the stove for just under an hour and voila, you have a soul restoring, toe thawing, lip smacking meal. I guess dishes such as Nona's stew make cold and dreary winter days worth enduring. 
Here's a clip of Julia Child preparing her version of Beef Bourguignon. You may have seen it before or heard of it referred to in the recent movie Julie and Julia. Give it and Nona's recipe a  try and see what you think. I bet you never open another can of it again.

What is it with store staff that makes them think that shoppers enjoy hearing Christmas carols the minute the clock strikes midnight on November 1st? It is only the end of November but I feel that I have heard Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer and Frosty the Snowman enough times to last me a lifetime. Now that I think of it, if I had never heard those carols at all, it would have been fine with me. I understand the whole psychological reasoning behind creating a gift giving atmosphere but I truly believe that shoppers are fully aware of the fact that Christmas comes less than two months after Halloween. If anything, hearing that annoying music over and over again, entices me to run out of the store screaming rather than shopping till I drop. I think we need to start an Occupy the Mall Parking Lot movement and insist we will not enter a store unless the blasted music is banished. How about some quiet background music that actually soothes our frazzled nerves? Maybe an end of summer seminar for all mall staff in charge of the stereo on-button, I know I am dating myself here, and a field trip to a high end spa that knows a thing or two about the role music plays in mood elevation is what we need to raise Holiday sales figures. And while they are at it, how about banishing the music from mall parking lots period? Is it really necessary to assault our brains the minute we walk out of our cars?

Enough venting. After all, this is a blog dedicated to exploring all the things I like about the winter season. I must say that today I sorted through my stack of Christmas CDs and came up with a line up that will be ready to go once the time arrives. And that time, in my estimation is rarely before the beginning of December. Here a a couple of pieces that I particularly like and look forward to hearing every year.

Sweet

Sweet tooth or not, you just have to bake for Christmas. The season would not be the same without gingerbread and shortbread. Christmas tree, lights, presents and carols can not rival the smell of baking wafting through the house. And, at our house it is the smell of cookies and cakes that we only bake at Christmas, that signal, the official arrival of the season. In case you haven't noticed, it has been raining since noon today. They cold and dreary day had nothing else in store, so after doing the dinner dishes I pulled out the "special", elastic bound bundle of recipes from my file and spread the contents across the kitchen table. I decided that today was going to be day 1 of what is usually a month-long Christmas baking frenzy. Looking through several possibilities and through the contents of my baking cupboard, I decided on my favourite. Chewy Chocolate Gingerbread Cookies. They have become a trademark family tradition after searching for years for that one recipe that we would come back to every year. For several years in a row I have had to make these cookies several times because they just seemed to disappear before Christmas even arrived. Even when frozen in the basement freezer, they seemed to grow legs and disappear one by one until I had no choice but to repeat the process all over again. But who could blame the helpless bystander when the memory of these baked beauties refused to diminish even when frozen solid. Imagine a soft spice cookie, enriched by a hint of cocoa and studded with partially melted chunks of semi-sweet chocolate. Now do you understand? No, you say? well here's the recipe so you can see what you've been missing for yourself.

http://www.marthastewart.com/339353/chewy-chocolate-gingerbread-cookies

I

I've got nothing today. I'm not sure what I was thinking when I committed to writing daily about a different thing I appreciated about winter from mid November till the end of March. It has been 12 days and I've been scratching my head for the last four. Coming up against a brick wall tonight, I decided to scour you tube for interesting music with a winter theme or title. Why is this a worse idea than any other I've had for the last week, I thought. And, indeed, I have found some great music I was not familiar with and which I will probably remember for many winters to come.
Here then are a few, in case you feel like checking it out.

I'm not sure what is is exactly, but when the wind starts blowing a little cooler and the thermostat finally gets switched on, my mind starts to wonder toward that certain corner at the back of my closet. What? You don't have that certain corner, or basket, or shelf? You know the one with all the balls of wool, and knitting needles and patterns and half done scarves, hats or gloves? Well if you don't it is high time you did.

There is something almost meditative about casting on a row of stitches and transferring them from one needle to the other. The minutes fade away as you focus your attention on the tip of the metal or wooden needle as it slips in and out of rows of loops while a never ending piece of yarn crisscrosses your field of vision. If that were not enough, once you repeat the process long enough, you are rewarded with a warm and textured piece of work, quietly collecting on your lap. That is why I knit, for the relaxation and the prospect of being able to forget the concerns of the day while I focus on the sound of the needles as they "clack" one against the other. It is almost the winter version of listening to a wind chime on a summers day.


Here's are the basics to get you started.

The Good Old Hockey game.

Hockey is not a sport I grew up with. I vaguely remember snippets of the game being televised on a black and white television in the three room, third floor flat of our four story building in the city of Szczecin, Poland. That was the mid 1960's and our TV was probably one of only three or four in the entire building. I can not say that the males of our household, my grandfather and uncle, were hockey fans either. It would have been hard to be a fan when the games were seldom shown in their entirety and, only focused on Soviet teams. I can be fairy certain that no one, at that time, felt any affinity toward a hockey team with the Hammer and Sickle emblazoned on their jersey. We lived in state run home cooperatives,worked for state run institutions, stood in queues for food at state run shops and gazed at the likeness of Lenin on every other street corner. We watched the one channel that came in clearly enough most nights, and if hockey happened to be what was was being shown then we watched it.

Things changed drastically in 1970 when my mother and I arrived in Canada. Come winter, hockey was the subject of conversation in school, at work, in coffee shops and around family kitchen tables. Children and adults wore their favourite team colours with pride and youngsters engaged in impromptu games on side streets and empty parking lots. The message could not have been clearer. If you wanted to be Canadian you had to know, and better yet, love hockey. I still remember sitting in a crowded school gymnasium and watching a game of the Canada/Russia series with the nuns casting a nervous eye at the television between shooshing boisterous children.

It wasn't till I met my husband-to-be that I got a good appreciation of what it meant to be a hockey fan. His entire family considered the Toronto Maple Leafs theirs to cajole, correct, reprimand and cheer whenever the occasion arose. And, it arose at least twice a week every year, between October and June. Every single member of the family had an opinion as to what every line was doing wrong and how they should do it better and in the event a goal was scored, they announced with a whoop and a solid thump of the foot to the floor that that's the way games got won.

The Maple Leafs have had their ups and downs over the last thirty years but I must admit there is something anticipatory about welcoming a new hockey season and wondering if this is the year it will all go our way. This year things are looking better than they have in a very long time. I may just have another reason to look forward to the cold weather from now on. Come on Maple Leafs, make us proud!

Hibernating

You don't have to be a bear to hibernate, you just have to feel like one. And, for some reason, it is usually the months between November and April that bring on the need to withdraw. It probably has something to do with the bone chilling temperatures or howling winds, or it could be just the dark, you know, the fourteen hours between supper and dawn. I'm not quite sure, but the combination of all of the above are almost guaranteed to chase me into my pajamas shortly after dinner and under a blanket till morning. Maybe it's just nature's way of saying, "slow down, relax, recoup." Who am I not to heed mother nature's wise advice? I have no problem battening down the hatches, brewing up a pot of tea, resurrecting my fuzzy slippers and faux sheep-skin blanket. This is the season for watching entire season's worth of your favourite TV show , movies that you've been meaning to get to, starting and maybe even having enough time to finish a family game of Monopoly, Battleship or Scrabble. It is time to dig out grandma's knitting needles and that dusty ball of yarn, to look up all those things you have been meaning to google, start a novel, take a knife to that small piece of wood brought in as kindling for the fire, allow yourself a three hour bubble bath or finally make a start on that genealogy project. And it's all because of the inhospitable conditions outside. I still remember an evening, not that long ago, when the kids came out of their rooms and into the family room where we were sitting. The electricity went out, the computers were down, and there was nothing left to do but spend time with one another. We lit candles, played cards and were actually disappointed to see the lights finally come on again. I think that winter is nature's way of turning out the lights so that we remember how to light the ones within.

Get lost

If you ask me, anytime is a good time to get lost in a good book. However, there is something special about settling down on a cold winter evening with a nice fat tome in one hand, a cup of steaming tea in the other and a cozy throw on your lap. Add a fireplace and a curled up cat and you've got more than you can handle. This is the time of year you want to crack open that fat volume that's been taunting you from the bookshelf all summer. The short days are full of chores and responsibilities but the long evenings and nights call for something you can sink your literary teeth into. Depending on your reading tastes, you may want to finally get through those classics you've been meaning to read since high school or one of the recent Governor General Award winners such as The Sisters Brothers by Patrick DeWitt. If you have kids around, take a trip to the library after supper one day or designate Saturday afternoon as the day to stock up on books for the week. The librarian will be more than happy to recommend enough good reads for both you and the children to last  all winter long. Of course there will be those titles you will not want to part with and there are more than one book store in town to make sure you can have your very own copy. Here in no particular order are some books I plan on getting into over the next few months.

David- Ray Robertson
Freedom-Jonathan Franzen
Half-Blood Blues-Esi Edugyan
Villa Air-Bel-Rosemary Sullivan
Angel's Game-Carlos Ruiz Zafon
Fall of The Giants- Ken Follett
World Without End- Ken Follett

I happen to like to read in absolute quiet but on the rare occasion that I feel like some background music, I have enjoyed the music of Yann Tiersen, especially the soundtrack from the movie Amelie. Here is one of the tracks to whet your appetite.
Happy reading!

In the kitchen with Jamie

Today turned into "one of those days." From beginning to end what could have gone wrong did and what should have been good, wasn't. Sitting on the couch with a cup of tea in my hand, I sulked till even doing that made me feel miserable. I looked out the window at the darkening sky, saw the naked tree swaying in the wind, grabbed a sweater from the closet and reached into a newly opened box with the label "Chapters" prominently displayed on  top. I flipped through a couple of books that I was tempted to read before giving away as Christmas gifts but put them down and lifted out the biggest and heaviest book of them all. I have always been a sucker for a beautifully illustrated cookbooks, but when they go for a fraction of their original price I simply can not resist. I looked down at the smiling face of Jamie Oliver and could feel the tension seeping out of every pore. Careful not to crease the pages or crack the spine, I poked around the different chapters looking to see what would catch my eye. It didn't take long before THE recipe appeared before me. Baked Ricotta and Marscapone Tart with Chocolate and Orange, announced the title. Before I really knew was was happening, I had taken out the flour, butter and sugar and was reaching into the cupboard for my tart pan. It wasn't till I read the entire list of ingredients, that I realized I did not have what I needed to follow the recipe exactly. I scrounged around for a ready made pie crust and decided to substitute that for the made from scratch version. Everything else went according to plan. It was the first task that I attempted today that did not end in disaster, well, almost. The ready made pie shell proved to be smaller than the tart pan the recipe called for and some of the filling spilled over onto the pan I had placed underneath. By this time, enjoying the citrusy, chocolatey smell in the warm, bright kitchen, the slight misstep did not bother me in the least. This, after all , was not a dessert made for anyone but me, and the family, of course.
So there you go, I happened on another thing that I look forward to when the winter arrives, without having to wrack my brain. Baking, it seems, is medicine for what ever ails me. When the temperature falls out side and the house is in need of that certain coziness that only the smell of vanilla can provide, I am ready to oblige.
Here is Jamie Oliver whipping up something sweet. It may not be THE recipe that spoke to me today, but it is one I'll have to try in the next few months while I'm waiting for the tulips to bloom again.

Paper Snow Flakes

Who would have thought that thinking of just one thing per day that I liked about winter would be such a chore. Don't get me wrong, I usually come up with at least 2-3, but finding the time to commit to writing about it has been a challenge. But I guess that was part of the point. I wanted to make writing a daily habit and in the process slow down enough to notice things that I usually have a tendency to rush past.
The weather man mentioned flurries today. They aren't supposed to make an appearance till a few days from now, but the word flurries stopped me in my tracks. Here we go, I thought. Images of snow, slush, shoveling the driveway, scrapping the windshield while I'm shivering in the process, came to mind first. While making a mental note to make sure there's a decent scraper in my car, I decided to google "snow" and see what came up. Interestingly enough, the first thing that caught my eye was a picture of a snowflake paper cut out. I hadn't seen one of those since I was a child. In fact, I remember making snowflakes just like those when I was in kindergarten. Any piece of paper and a pair of scissors could magically result in a piece of wintery art. It didn't take me long to find instructions on how it is done just so that the next time I have a quiet moment I may just try my hand at it again. Who knows, the little girl across the street may want to learn something new the next time there's a snow day.

Oats and other hot grub

It seems to me that not too many things go together as well as winter and oatmeal. When the thermometer starts to dip below the freezing mark and the chill in the morning air prevents us from wanting to get out of our beds, it is the thought of steaming hot oatmeal that makes it somewhat worth while. There are a number of ways to prepare this cold weather breakfast. It appears that every cook has their own recipe, from opening up a package of the instant variety to soaking the flakes in water overnight. I still remember as a young wife preparing the recipe from scratch starting with the above mentioned overnight soaking, in fruit juice no less. If I recall correctly, I added raisins, dried prunes and cranberries and sprinkled the whole lot with brown sugar and cinnamon. In the morning all the hubby had to do was to turn on the stove and heat the fragrant mush till bubbling and toss in some fresh chopped apples and nuts at the end. He handled the chore no problem, enjoyed the hot delicious concoction and drove off into the frosty morning with a smile on his face. It wasn't till he had no appetite for lunch and could barely get through dinner that we decided to have another look at the recipe. I had followed it to a tee but failed to notice that it was meant to serve 4. It just goes to show you how good freshly prepared oats with add ons can be. If you google it, you will find enough recipes to enjoy it differently each day of the winter season.
Have a look at this version. Even a restaurant-less hotel room will not pose a challenge.

It's all about the scarf.

I know it's not exactly winter yet but certain days carry that certain chill in the air that carries the promise of  greater things to come. There is not much one can do to dress up a practical, neck to mid-calf winter coat other than to pair it with an equally warm but hopefully attractive winter hat or adorn it with a colourful scarf. Again, if you know me at all, you know that I don't do hats.I have been known to wear them in extreme situations when my ears threatened to break off due to cold or when the unrelenting sun threatened to slay me with sun stroke. Other than that, my outdoor winter fashion statement usually consists of the scarf. They are inexpensive enough that you can own more than one and are available in so many fabrics and colours that you can truly brighten up a gray winter day just by wrapping one around your neck. While you're at it why stop with doing it the same old way? Here are several fun methods of getting that extra layer of warmth around that naked skin. If I practice now, I may actually remember what to do when the occasion arises.

Blades on ice

It occurred to me today that if it wasn't for snow and ice, the necessity of dreaming up a way to get across a large expanse of a frozen surface, would never have come to be. And, because the human spirit seems to always find a way to express beauty in every way possible, we now have the winter sport of ice skating. Whether it be singles, pairs or ice dance, at neighbourhood ice rinks or world class arenas, we have the opportunity to witness athleticism and artistry in action. I remember taking ice skating lessons as a 12 year old and suffering through the hour session as if in a dentists chair.It was obvious then as it is now that I was meant to enjoy the sport as a spectator. Every fall through the beginning of spring we can watch determined young people strap on boots fitted with shiny blades and place them on the ice. The results can make the long cold months seem that much sweeter.
Enjoy!

 It was another cold day today. OK, it actually reached 5 degrees and when the sun shone directly on me as I sat at the stop light in the comfort of my seat warmed car, it actually felt pleasant. Getting to that point was another story. All of a sudden the light weight, long sleeved t shirts and summer weight jeans would not promise to do the trick. I searched in the deepest drawers and at the back of the tallest closet shelves to find the clothes that got me through last winter. Somehow fur lined parkas and down filled vests seemed a bit extreme for early November. It was then that I remembered all the things that did not seem quite like winter wear that kept me warm when I put them together last year. The summer t shirt that worked solo throughout July and August, now became the first layer of an attire strata. The before mentioned light weight, long sleeved t shirt came next and a lovely thin but warm cardigan finished off the outfit. Huh...the pleasures of layering, I mused. It takes cooler temperatures and the threat of chattering teeth to force one to creatively put together a winter ensemble. Of course, the colder it gets the more layers come into play, and here I have to admit to feeling very lucky to be living in the southern most part of Canada. While my layering adventures focus on fun and lightweight layers designed to be quickly shed or added on to, our distant cousins to the north know the real benefits of proper layering. That benefit is called " being able to return home alive."
Here then is the second thing, in no particular order, that I kind of like about winter; dressing in warm comfy layers that envelop you like a warm embrace.





















































































http://youtu.be/RPRxdxtzQsM

Winterizing

 It hit me like the proverbial ton of bricks today, that even though the thermometer has been hovering in the mid teens lately, winter is fast approaching. Everyone that knows me knows that I hate winter. I don't ski, skate, toboggan or snow shoe. I don't like snow ball fights, making snow angels,driving in the snow, shoveling it or looking at it from the warmth of the house. The only things I like about the season are cold weather drinks and reading by the fire. I'd be OK with a month or two of the dreaded dark and cold but the thing about winter is that is seems to last forever. Since I can not turn back the clock, I have decided to approach it a bit differently this year. I have decided to Winterize my attitude.
 Surely, there must be some good that comes with bone chilling temperatures and dismal gray skies.
I took a good look at the reality of the next four months and came up with a handful of things that actually make me look at winter with softness in my heart. Instead of listing them here and rereading the list daily to remind myself why I aught to be happy about the approaching deep freeze, I decided to make it my daily task to find at least one thing that I I love about the season. Let's see that makes it approximately 120 things that I can look forward to next year.
If you like you can come along for the ride. You may find you have overlooked a few things yourself.

Here's the first thing that came to mind. There's nothing like good music to sooth the spirit and the spirit will need a lot of soothing over the next few months.