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.

               There’s nothing like having 10 or 12 mild winters (and by “mild,” I mean no huge snow storms, no days we couldn’t get to the grocery store, and just a time or two of below zero weather) to get us totally spoiled.

               When a friend was looking to move back to Ohio from Nevada last year, he bemoaned the “brutal Ohio winters.”  We laughed and joked – at his expense – and said, blithely, “buy a coat.”  Seriously, they just hadn’t been that bad.

               Then last weekend hit.  We got 12 (give or take a couple, depending on what news show you watch) inches of snow in 24 hours.  Plus, the temperatures hovered in the teens, with wind chills below zero for days.  The snow doesn’t melt with that kind of weather.  We amended our comments to our friend and told him, “buy a coat…and a hat, scarf, gloves, thick boots, a snow shovel and a snow blower, too.” 

               Twelve inches or not, we’re still better off than those folks who got two feet.  And we’re better off than the folks who got inches of ice.  Ice and wind will take down trees and power lines.  Snow?  Not so much.  We were lucky, yes lucky, I say, because we never lost power (knock on wood). While we were prepared with no-cook food, logs for the fireplace, and lots of candles, it was still a blessing to have lights,  heat, the stove, and the television.

               We never lost internet either, so all-in-all, not a bad snowstorm. 

               Then we started noticing the after effects.  First of all, the battery in our truck (the one with 4-wheel drive) died. We tried to charge it with our other car, but before we could even get them aligned in the garage (no easy feat, that!), the truck didn’t like what we were doing.  It began flashing lights and sounding the general alarm, which reverberated through the garage like an air raid siren.  It took a bit to figure out how to turn those things off.  After all that, and a long charge to our car…nothing.  We have to go buy a new battery.

               The second issue we discovered is that the mail lady couldn’t get to our mailbox.  If the foot of snow, plus drifts weren’t enough, the plow had gone up the hill, shoving more snow to the side and up against the mailbox.  This made a high, thick, and quite effective blockade.  Unless she had a combine, she wasn’t getting within three feet of the mailbox.  Normally I wouldn’t mind, but Murphy’s law tells me that some invoice will come in that is due immediately and I won’t be able to get it, or subsequently pay it, and this will cause untold horrors for us.

               Meanwhile, common sense has gone out the window. People driving who don’t need to be on the roads is bad enough.  Employers demanding their employees come to work is worse.  Seriously, the world will not end if they pay their employees to stay home two days.  Their businesses won’t fail, either.  Heaven forbid we don’t have a fast food joint to go to…but wait, we’re not supposed to be driving unless it’s “urgent.”  Do we really need a cheap taco or double burger that badly?  Apparently so.

               In any event, I’m warm and happy in my cocoon and don’t plan to venture out for a few more days.  Although it’s been 15 years or so since we’ve had a brutal winter, I know just how to survive them – stay warm and dry, eat potato chips, read a lot, and look at the snow from a window. 

               May you enjoy the same good fortune!

               We’ve all had adventures – or misadventures – with laundry!  I know at least ten people (myself included) who have accidentally thrown a red towel in with their whites.  That’s always fun.  You end up with pink shirts, pink towels, and pink underwear.  None of that is too bad – unless you’re not a “pink” person.

               Many of us have also accidentally pressed the wrong button on the washing machine.  Let me digress to complain that when I started doing laundry, there were not so many choices.  All I remember on the washer is “on” and “off.”  And the dryer was basically a hand wringer and clothesline.  So it’s not always my fault that I press the wrong button.  I have to choose between about ten different cycles, five temperatures, four spinning speeds, and remember to put laundry detergent, fabric softener and (occasionally) bleach in the thing!  So it’s no surprise that once in a while the buttons pushed shrink pants or shirts.  The machines set you up for that.

               I don’t know anyone who hasn’t had the laundry room goblins steal a sock from time to time.  I honestly think that all those missing socks end up in the Tupperware drawer as lids to containers that don’t exist.

               But worst of all, for me, is those fitted sheets – especially for a larger bed.  Ack.  Don’t wash them with anything else, and I mean anything.  I did that, and it was a nightmare.  First of all, the spin cycle created one long, tangled, entwined snake of material.  Because nothing that was wrapped up in the sheet actually “spun”, it was all soaking wet in the middle.  That meant it was huge snake that weighed about 50 pounds!

I finally got the massive clump out of the washer whereupon it spilled onto the floor, making puddles.  I wrestled my t-shirts and dish towels from the middle of the thing with great difficulty. In fact, in trying to pull it apart, I slipped in one the aforementioned puddles and cracked my elbow against the wall.  Ouch.

When I stood up, I slipped again and my knee hit the washing machine rather painfully.  When I finally regained my footing, I was a mess.  I was soaked, in pain, and to top it off, when I stood up straight, I cracked my head on the door of the dryer.  Why did I leave it open for heavens’ sake?

So there I was, stuffing sodden clothing back in the washer and trying to find the “spin only” button.  I put the sheet in the dryer and started it on the “sheet” cycle, because I wanted it out of my way.  Then I limped to the bedroom to put on some dry clothes, leaving wet shoe prints behind on the carpet.

There are good reasons I don’t do laundry often.  First, I’m terrible at it (clearly).  And secondly, I don’t have the desire to end up in urgent care for a spin-cycle emergency!