Bread shoes, where have you been all my life? At long last my winter fantasies of being enveloped in a carbohydrate cocoon are being realized.
Between productive hours spent staring at the wall and wondering who I can pick a fight with I discovered yummychummy, a lovely blog. This woman is my new hero. She found bread shoes and she takes beautiful photographs of dapper smiling dogs. It has briefly thawed my frozen winter heart.
Years ago when my parents had a house with a garden my mother noticed a groundhog at the bottom of their property. He would appear at least once a day and systematically eat his way through some of her prized plants. He was a portly fellow with a distinctive waddle and provided my mom with hours of delight. When she realized that he seemed to have a particular fondness for her ajuga plants she made sure to plant more, lest he go hungry.
The betrayal of Wiarton Willie stings a lot on this Groundhog Day. Obviously a little kindness towards one of their brethren means nothing to these little ingrates. Just how long do they think they can get away with dashing the hopes of winter weary humans? Just because they have very squeezable looking noses and round cuddly bodies shouldn’t give them license to crawl out of their burrows and declare that winter is going to stick around for another six weeks. We expect winter to be long but do they have to confirm it with such glee? And I know they’re gleeful. I can see it on their smug little faces when they waddle back into their burrows, smirking at their job well done. Horrid hairy beasts. To think that my mom planted extra delicacies for one of their kindred. They should be ashamed of themselves.
The winter has been reasonably tolerable so far. We’ve hardly had any snow, the temperatures have been mild-ish and I am noticing that the days are already getting longer. I have been vigilant with my light box and so far I haven’t sunk too far into winter melancholy. I was getting cocky, believing that perhaps this would be the year that I would conquer the winter blues.
Alas, I have started to notice a rising note of hysteria in my voice as I merrily chirp that I am okay and that winter is half over. My words ring hollow and false. I hear the manic undertones and I am sure there is a giant thought bubble looming over my head with nothing in it but a black cloud. I yearn to hide from the world until spring, shuffling in my bathrobe with kleenex boxes on my feet. I am starting to feel broken.
I believe that when you are down a pick me up is in order, especially in the winter. I am determined to treat myself to all things happy until spring arrives. Good-bye shopping hiatus and resolutions to be less self indulgent.
First order of business, I treated myself to an adorable fox locket I found on Lanyapi on Etsy. It will go perfectly with my fox bracelet from Fey Handmade, although I don’t think I will wear them together and be all fox matchy matchy. It would be too much, akin to the unfortunate look of sporting jeans with a jean jacket so that it looks like you are wearing a denim suit.
I also happily picked up Neil Diamond’s greatest hits at the library. If a sweaty guy with sideburns and silky shirts singing his heart out doesn’t lift my spirits, even temporarily, I need to book a beach vacation immediately.
And speaking of denim suits here is my sure thing for dumb laughs, Will Ferrell doing a Neil Diamond impersonation.
The no sugar resolution is also off. The temperature has dropped and so has my resolve. I have visions of being in a canoe made of bread paddling through swirling eddies of hot fudge. There will be a bake-off this weekend and I will not be stopped. Sugar, and lots of it, is the answer. The same goes for bread and all things carb related. There will be croissants in my hands. Soon.
Winter may get the best of me yet. There are still 50 days left until spring officially arrives, then another couple of months until it really feels warm and pastoral, but I will fight the good fight, one giant brownie, trinket, and warbling singalong at a time.
My powerhouse uber organizer friend of Nathalie-Roze and Co. is organizing a fund raising rummage and bake sale to raise money for Haiti relief. It has motivated me to continue with my Peter Walsh de-cluttering efforts in order to find items I can donate. I have also offered to bake for the cause. Despite my vows to avoid sugar I had to sample my cookie dough… a few times… for quality control.
What I can’t do with my cheque book, I can do with my time and a small contribution. In the face of so much suffering it is easy to feel completely ineffectual and helpless. My cookies and my clutter won’t change the world, but together, small acts can add up to something significant.
Knowing that I would be surrounded by shortbread, fudge wreaths and assorted bonbons, I declared the month of December a sugar and gluttony free-for-all. It was a glorious ride. I sailed along the chocolate river, climbed the sugar mountain to it’s sticky peak, and rode the wave of a fudge tsunami. I have lived in a candy palace and it has been beautiful. Alas, the sugar fog settled in and I finally realized that it was time to disembark from the sugar train.
The past three and half days have been hell. It is hard to give up sugar. If anyone tells you they felt clearer, more energized and even tempered by giving up sugar they are lying. I have spent an inordinate amount of time reminiscing about those little Lindt balls of chocolate and the remarkably smooth and creamy sensation they leave on the tongue. I am kicking myself for all the cookies I ate without truly being mindful. Why did I take that meditation course if I didn’t learn to be more mindful? What was the point? What is the point of anything anymore if chocolate is out of my life. Oh dear cookies, I would never take you for granted again. I am staring at the brownies I still have left over from a pre-sugar moratorium baking spree. Why didn’t I eat more of those moist chewy squares, why?
I had a dream about butter tarts last night. Giant butter tarts as big as my head, nestled in a cardboard box. Their tops were burnished like creme brulee, the sugar all caramelized , dark and glistening. Why didn’t I have such a prophetic dream before? I should have bought myself one of those little kitchen torches ages ago.
I spent an extra long time in the shower this morning savouring the delectable aroma of my special Philosophy Hot Cocoa body wash. It is heavenly, only comes out at Christmas and is always my festive indulgence to myself. I felt like I was in sudsy chocolate heaven and would have happily lathered up all day. I smelled so delicious and chocolaty that I lost control and licked my arm. It tasted like soap. Oh sugar goddess, it is hard to let you go.
Winter Songs from Crush Design on Vimeo.
I saw this lovely animated video on Poppytalk, a most delightful and dreamy blog and was instantly smitten. I love this song and have the Winter Songs CD
It makes my heart ache a little because it reminds me of one of my closest friends and how she and I are no longer friends. Long sad story but the two little animated figures remind me of her and I (I’m the bespectacled one, having had very similar glasses for most of my life until a few years ago when I finally discovered the wonders of laser eye surgery). Losing that friendship was a sad episode from 2009. The video makes me sad and lonesome but it is sweet and lovely nonetheless. It makes me want to bundle up, have a solitary walk in the cold air and feel a little wistful, tragic and wise.
