The Grateful Days of Winter

 JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: This is the start of the hardest part of winter. Christmas is well and truly past, the excited glow of setting new goals and planning for the upcoming year has dimmed (I see you, already skipping out on the gym) and most of the country is bone-achingly cold, covered in ice and snow, or on fire. The earliest southern gardens won't see new life for at least another month, while in the northern states, we've got three more months to get through before the forsythia blooms.

So whether you're huddled up against the cold and dark or fleeing fiery disaster,  this is an excellent time to cultivate gratitude. Studies have shown it improves your mental and physical well-being, and at the very least, it will keep you from annoying your loved ones with constant whining.

To kick up off, here are a few things I'm grateful for:

 

1970s disaster movies - I honestly can't explain this, except to say I want to watch something that's exciting and action packed, but that doesn't get my heart rate up. I tried watching Carry On, but seeing Justin Bateman be bad was just too distressing. You know what's the opposite of distressing? George Kennedy, who was in every disaster movie of the decade. The Towering Inferno, Earthquake, Airport - you know it's all going to be okay with manly men like Chuck Heston and Steve McQueen on the job. (Also, they're always paired with women obviously fifteen years younger - was that a 70s thing I missed?)

 

Yes, there are 2 dogs here. Look closely.

My Shih Tzus who don't need exercise - I love my dogs all year round, of course, but it's when the weather is crappy they really shine. I have friends and family with hearty, active breeds: standard poodles and pit bull mixes and terriers. Rain, snow or impending fire tornado (have we had one of those yet?) those doggos need to move. My boys? Oh, heck, no. They were bred to sit on the emperors lap. It was probably an honor for a courtier to carry their ancestors out to do their business. Rocky and Kingsley run outside, pick their paws up in a way that clearly indicates their disgust with snow, and run back in as soon as mission accomplished. They spend the rest of the day lazing 1) in front of the wood stove or 2) by the space heater.

Not having to go anywhere - See Shih Tzus, above. I know this is the time of year lots of people start pouring over the internet version of travel brochures (an I the only one who misses those?) but not me. I don't want to get on a boat or a plane. I don't even want to go to the Hanneford for groceries, and that's only three miles away. I am in my house like a Hobbit in its hole and I like it.

 

Shea butter moisturizer - As soon as my forced hot air heat kicks in, my skin becomes dryer than Arrakis. In fact, I could use an opposite stillsuit, that wrings every drop of moisture out of the air and, I don't know, circulates it all over my body. Until some smart kid invents that, large tubs of shea butter are my best friends. I slather it on until I slide out of bed every time I roll over. Sadly, I have yet to figure out how to moisturize my back below the neck and above the waist - you know, that part where you yell, "Honey, come get my back for me!"

 

Cat recovering - Have I mentioned my daughter's cat before? When Virginia departed for grad school in The Hague, she left her kitty with me, after a heartfelt speech about how much she loved the animal, and how vital it was to her mental health, and how it would be the pet her small children would remember someday. So naturally, after this foreboding start, the cat escaped from my house and got hit by a car. Now, if it had been my 14 year old Neko (who's smart enough not to run into the road) I would have cradled her gently while the vet eased her into the next world.

But I can't do that with Virginia's two-year-old wonder kitty, can I ? So after approximately $570,000,000,000 (okay, not that much, but it has been enough to buy a mid-range used car) AND spending the past 15 weeks living in a large dog crate on a table next to my desk (have to keep the cat company, or he yowls) I'm happy to say Walker the Bionic Cat is doing much better. His surgeon thinks he'll be able to travel to the Netherlands with Virginia in early February, and if he leaps off her balcony into the canal below, it'll be her look-out, not mine.

 

 

 

 

Now it's your turn, Dear Readers. What are you grateful for in these dark days of winter?

Bonus Shih Tzu and cat jail content