I have discussed before the fact that I am geographically challenged.  It’s not that I haven’t gone to places, or read about places, because I have.  And in many other areas, I’m pretty smart, or at least I can hold my own.

               But geography escapes me.  I would like to blame my fifth grade teacher, Ms. Ferrero.  She interrupted a wonderful day dream I was having about Africa and what it must be like to live there.  In doing so, I was embarrassed and from that day forward, I have had a mental block about all things geographical.

               I know, I know, it’s not really her fault.  But I have to blame someone!

               Anyway, this deficiency pops up occasionally in my life, and often when we are playing word games.  The other day, I was playing a game with my husband, and wouldn’t you know it, but the topic was geography.  I’m sure he mentally gritted his teeth, but he tried very hard to get me to say a word.

               His first clue was “Tennessee city.”

               (I’m sure most of you have guessed it already.)

               I responded, “Chattanooga.”  (And honestly, I’m pretty impressed that my first guess was an actual city in Tennessee.

               With his lack of response, I continued, “Talladega.”  (Yes, yes, I NOW know that that is a city in some other Southern state.  I want to say…Florida?  .But in any event, not in Tennessee).

               Never being a quitter, my husband tried another tack completely. He said, “Walking in….”

               Ow.  I thought hard and replied, “the woods?  Moonlight?” (What in the world could you walk in that was also a city name?)

               That’s when it got really ugly.  He tried another clue.  He said, “Egypt.”

               (Egypt?  He’s giving me another geography clue to get a first geography clue that I clearly don’t know??)

               I tried the only two geographical things I know about Egypt.  “Nile?  Cairo?”

He tried one final clue. “Mississippi River,” he said. (Seriously?? yet ANOTHER geographical clue for ME?)

“Mississippi!” I yelped, incredulously. (I didn’t think that river went anywhere near Tennessee, and it clearly showed on my face.)

               He finally gave up. Obviously, I was not going to get this word.  Turns out, it was “Memphis.”

               Well, okay, I did have to confess that I’ve heard of Memphis.  I might have even known it is in Tennessee.  It just didn’t pop into my head. (Although Walking in Memphis is a really good song.)

               Also, I must confess that there is absolutely nothing he could have said that would have made me think of it.  I don’t know anyone there, have never been there, and have no connection that could be made in my head.  So, that was a tough word for our team.

               Now, ask me anything about books and authors, poetry, cooking, or history and I have a better chance of hitting the target.

               Just don’t try geography.  Or directions.  I’m not good at those either!

               One of my favorite family activities is enjoying a campfire.  Naturally, the weather has to be just right – a chilly but not cold, dry, spring day is excellent, as is a brisk, dry autumn evening. Whether we are enjoying a beverage, roasting a hot dog or marshmallow, playing games, or sharing memories and laughter, a campfire is just a wonderful way to relax.

               Fire can be beautiful.  It can also be deadly.  Take, for example, our innocent ride home from a dinner date with a couple of family members.  We were headed down the highway for a mere ten miles, to drop off our first passenger before we returned home with the remaining three.  These ten miles quickly became a challenge.  At first, it was puzzling.

               In the “fast” lane on the interstate, we began to notice intermittent lines of what appeared to be clumps of hay or straw.  These had obviously fallen from some sort of transport.  While, by itself, clumps of straw could be detrimental to travel, these clumps were especially concerning.  Why?  Because they were ON FIRE!

               Of even more concern was the pile – visible in the distance above.  It was huge, and was also ablaze!  As we passed by, at a reasonable and safe distance, the heat could still be felt on our faces, through the car windows.  It was pretty scary.  And the view we had was alarming!

               So, yes, fire can be dangerous, scary, and horrifyingly destructive.  All-in-all, I was pretty much against fire in any form.

               Until this weekend.  High winds, as might be expected, took out trees and downed power lines in our area.  We lost power for over 24 hours, which meant no flushing toilets, no television, no charging of the telephones, no showers, no lights, and…no heat!  Given that the overnight temperatures dropped to near freezing, we were pretty chilly. 

               Fortunately, we had fire.  First, we had fire in the form of a lot of candles.  I am just a touch obsessed with candles and tend to buy them when on sale.  So, we had at least a dozen unlit beauties sitting around our home.  We brought them all to the kitchen and enjoyed the light they provided.  We played cribbage, read a little, and had a romantic discussion, all while enjoying the flickering and aromatic delights of our candles.

               The night got chilly.  We used a lot of blankets and slept in our winter nightwear, plus socks.  But we weren’t uncomfortable at all. Thank goodness, we have a Ben Franklin stove in our kitchen.  It was a great source of heat. The entire kitchen was warm and cozy.  Although we didn’t have electricity, we had a good friend in our fireplace.

               Fire can be deadly dangerous, absolutely.  It can also be a comfort and a delight.  All I know is that, last week I was scared of that fire on the road.  But this week, I gave a lot of thanks for the fire in our home.

               A few years ago, a friend gave me a book about the Dutch practice of hygge (pronounced “hoo-gah”).  It is basically about creating atmosphere – having a cozy, warm home or room, wearing comfortable clothing, and celebrating life with good friends and good food.  Candles, blankets, sweaters, and soups top the list of ways to create this feeling.  It’s more than a practice, it’s a lifestyle.

               I have purchased two additional books about hygge and try to incorporate some of its aspects into my own life, as well. Getting together in small groups to read or play games, with no stress about time frames, food presentation, or dress code is key to enjoying this lifestyle.  For me, it means a basket of blankets near my reading chair and candles flickering on the counter.

               Last year, I learned about the Icelandic practice of “jolabokafloo” (pronounced “yo-lah-boh-kah-flawd”), which roughly translates to “Yule book flood.”  Every year on Christmas Eve, the folks in Iceland buy a new book and take it to someone’s home as a gift to trade.  Then, everyone settles in to read and drink a beverage.  The quintessential choice there is warm and rich cocoa paired with chocolates.         This practice is part of why Iceland is rated as one of the most literate countries in the world, as well as happiest, I suspect. Iceland published more books per capita than any other country, with around 80% of annual book sales happening during the Jolabokafloo period (which lasts into January).  Icelanders read an average of 2.3 books per month and Icelandic youth frequently read in languages other than Icelandic. This literary bent really calls to me, as I read several books monthly.  Though I’ve yet to read a book in another language, sometimes I feel like old-world British is a bit foreign!

               This year, I read about the Danish practice of “dusking.”  Dusking means going outside (to a place with a view, so not as helpful to those folks who live in the big cities) and silently watching as the last of the sun goes away.  It’s helpful to have a horizon line – farm land or trees are excellent choices.  Then, as the sun dips down, allow yourself to watch the light and enjoy being surrounded by darkness.

               Dusking creates a short period of mindfulness and appreciation of God’s creation.  This consistent practice affords a time to reflect, to be immersed in the changing of the day, and to be totally present in the world.  It’s a huge counter to the busy-ness of everyday life and to the constant demands of technology.

               It’s no surprise that, according to the World Happiness Report, the five happiest countries in the world consistently include Denmark, Netherlands, Iceland, Finland and Sweden.  These are areas of the world that focus on family, comfort, sharing, and appreciating our world.  As I’m writing this, we (in the Midwest) are preparing to “spring forward” tonight.  I plan to enjoy the last of the daylight today dusking, and see if it helps my mood.  If nothing else, it will add to my enjoyment of the many wonders of my world.

               I’ve been watching the encroaching and all-encompassing takeover of our lives by AI (artificial intelligence).  Sometimes it’s amusing, sometimes frustrating, but always scary.

               Scarier yet, to me, is the fact that simple machines – with no artificial intelligence whatsoever (or intelligence of any kind for that matter) – seem to be “thinking.”  Let me offer some examples.

               First, there’s our telephone landline.  I realize we are in the minority of folks who still have such archaic things.  There aren’t even any phone companies, or any other business that we can find, who still sell, install, or service such an entity.  Yet, here we are with a landline.  It works really well, typically and personally, I love giving that number out to various entities rather than my cell phone.  (But the annoying calls, texts, and pings on cell phones is a blog for another day). 

               It works well, unless it rains or snows.  At any such time – and given where we live, it’s frequent – the line shorts out, or disconnects, or does something!  The phone will suddenly ring several times, very shortly, for about a half hour.  Or it will ring continuously until you go unplug it.  Or it will have no dial tone to call out, but will still ring.  If you answer, there’s just dead air.

               Nothing scares you more on a dark, rainy night than a phone that won’t stop ringing.          

               But okay, this is just an electrical malady, nothing sinister.

               Then there’s the shower curtain rod.  It’s a tension rod and has worked fine for years.  One morning, without a squeak or a slide, in the middle of my husband’s shower, it simply plummeted to the floor.

               Apparently a screw had come unscrewed.  But why?  We don’t move the rod.  We don’t adjust the rod.  We never tinker with it at all.  So how did a random screw become unscrewed?  By itself?

               Again, possibly a random event, but I start feeling like machinery is playing tricks on me.

               Then we had the major snowstorm of January, 2026.  On the second day, our truck started up fine and my hubby took the snow blower next door to clear the driveway.  That afternoon, we decided to do more good deeds and got in the truck.  It wouldn’t start.

               We charged the battery, but nothing.  So my husband braved the roads in our car and went to town to buy a new battery.  He put it in, it was fully charged, and he turned the key.   Nothing. It didn’t even click.

               Calling the tow company, we were told there were too many tows being called in and to try again tomorrow.  So on Tuesday, he went out to try to truck.  It was still dead.  He called the towing company and got the same answer.  Try again tomorrow.

               Wednesday, repeat.  Truck wouldn’t start and no tow was available.  Thursday morning, the truck was still dead and no tow was available. Friday morning, the truck (now laughing at us, I’m sure) was still not starting and the tows were not available.

               Saturday morning, my husband called the auto company and – hurrah! – a tow truck was coming between 10 and noon.  It arrived at 2:30.  The young man hopped out of his truck and went into our garage.  Taking the key and reaching across the seat – he didn’t even get in! – he turned the key and – WHAM! Truck started up like brand new.

               Sigh.  I’m pretty sure these machines are playing with us.  And we’re losing.