What is your 'cozy'?

I’m chasing something. 

That perfect level of contentedness and work and joy and…coziness.   

I wasn’t really aware that THAT is what I was chasing the past couple of weeks.  And I was starting to catch up, till my oven went out over the weekend.  And it made me feel…lost. 

Stuck. 

Gray. 

Cold. 

A little melodramatic?  Sure.  And I was aware it was melodramatic so I took the time to figure out why my response was so strong. (It’s always interesting what breaks the camel’s back; what that last straw actually turns out to be.)

Don’t worry.  I’m okay.  My world isn’t shattered.  And the stove top still works so I’m not panicking.  And I figured it out.  Why I suddenly felt a little colder.  And a little more isolated.

How I was handling and how I was going to continue handling Winter got taken away from me.  I lost my hygge.

That word became trendy a few years ago.  It was splashed all over Home magazines and cooking shows.  I heard it and loved it and tucked it away inside.

The trend died, or maybe I should say mellowed, but my love for it did not.  I kept reading articles and found a book on it and even asked the only Swede I know about it.  Hygge.  (Pronounced hoo-ga.  I was ecstatic when I finally saw a pronunciation guide.  It made reading the word over and over again so much easier.)

Turns out, there’s not a lot of different ways that you can explain hygge.  It means what it means and it’s up to you to find how that fits in your life. 

It doesn’t have a direct translation into English.  The closest people get is coziness.  But even then, that doesn’t really cover it.  It’s about the feeling of coziness, and the mindset of it.  Of contentment on gray days and cold nights.  About making your world a little more golden to help you hunker down and make it through the winter. 

For the times when you need a quick fix, what is the easiest source of that golden warmth?  Fire.  Are candles and fires hygge?  Absolutely.  (I love when it gets cold enough outside to justify using our fire, even if my husband slightly laments it. Not only does that coziness feed my soul and make the day golden instead of gray, it rapidly subtracts from our bank account as well. You pay to have instant ambiance.)  To help further foster that sense I bought towels for the kitchen.  “Comfy and cozy are we”, with a pine bough and a couple of pinecones.

But hygge is bigger than flames and mood setting towels.  It’s about the food you eat, what you drink, the shows you watch, the clothes you wear, all of it.  It’s about how you survive the winter mentally, not physically. 

In the past when I sought hygge, it was easy to find.  Because hunkering down in depressing January and miserable February is downright delightful with other people.  Playing games and watching movies and football games.  Feasting on roasted meats and vegetables, soaping everything up with bread, and then savoring every single bite of whatever sweet confection stretched your pants to the limit.  But you justified it because we just opened another bottle of wine after all and need something in the tummy to soak it up. 

I am so lucky.  So, so lucky. 

I can still, technically, do this.  All of it. 

And we have.  My Hemni five.  We’ve hunkered and feasted and laughed and watched and played.  And we’ll keep doing that.  Nobody in my house is alone.

But as everyone has discovered this year, it doesn’t necessarily take being alone to feel lonely, to feel isolated. 

And that is what hygge is for.  To fight that. 

This winter I decided to work on my baking. 

I’m not very good at it.

I can cook, don’t get me wrong.  Give me a hot pan and a counter of ingredients and I’ll make you a lip-smacking meal.  Stir and chop and toss and sprinkle and dash and stir some more. 

 But baking is hard.  Baking requires precision and patience.  Two things that don’t exactly scream "Katie".

This was how I was going to get through to May, maybe April, mentally speaking. 

Not writing.  Because there isn’t anything new under the sun to be said.

Not art, specifically painting.  Because it’s an expensive thing to be a novice at.

Not TV.  Because does anyone really need more screen time right now?

And not even cooking.  Yes, I can find respite and scratch that creative itch with it but I still HAVE to do it every day.  And I can’t really share it without making my day harder. 

But baking?  Baking isn’t something I HAVE to do.  It’s a choice.  I’m still creating, still making, and still learning.  It’s brings comfort and a smile with its outcomes.  Even if they’re horrible!  The five of us can laugh and my husband will hug me, chuckling because he likes it when I try something new, even if he doesn’t know why I HAVE TO TRY SOMETHING NEW.  But most of all, I can share it. 

I can bring someone else a smile and moment of hygge in this cold, COVID-19 winter.  Again, even if it’s not the best.  Because I tried!  And I thought of them!  If nothing else, they can taste my love and then the lemon that is really, really trying to drown it out.    

A loaf of soda bread that was cooked on the inside even if it made the outside super crunchy.

 An incredibly potent lemon tart with a strawberry drizzle (that looked more like brains) and was the color of mustard. 

A great peanut butter tart with a design that almost looked really good. 

A chocolate bundt cake that didn’t come out of the pan and looked disgraceful…but was still warm and fudgy so it tasted great! 

THE chocolate chip cookie recipe.  Don’t ever need to try anything new there, it’s perfect.

I’ve shared all of these so far.  (Well, except for the cookies.  We ate all of those, they were phenomenal.)

That’s my hygge right now.  My comfort.  My feeling of coziness. 

If I can MAKE for someone else, create for them, and bring them a smile, no matter how gray the day or how long the quarantine is, then maybe we’ll both feel a little less isolated.  A little less alone.

I think that’s a worthy chase for these cold months.  

…and then my oven broke. 

I’m pretty sure I know what’s wrong with it, thanks to Google and YouTube.  It can be fixed.  (Please, Lord, let it be fixable.)

And if worse absolutely comes to worse, I’ll get a new one.  (Ugh.)

But till then?  My hygge has been messed with.   

*sigh*

End of the world?  Of course not.  Will I be okay?  Of course I will. 

…but my kitchen is a little less golden for the moment. 

So what’s the point of this post?  To talk about how to re-find your hygge?  To talk about all the other blessings in my life and how my life is actually great?  A nice little lesson/bow to wrap things up nicely?

No. 

My oven is still broken. 

I’m still IN it. 

BUT I can be comforted by the knowledge that it won’t be that way forever.  It won’t be.  I don’t know the timeline on it.  But I know there IS one.  And that helps.

So do all the scented candles around my house.  And the fire.  (Sorry, honey.)