Journals | in the muck of winter

This weekend, we took advantage of the warmer temperatures and set out walking. We made big circles around our neighborhoods, taking the long way there, the long way back. Friends came for meals on Friday and Saturday, and we sat around chatting until it was passed our normal bedtime. We'd been binging on Breaking Bad the past few weeks and had caught up on Friday evening so we were TV-free all weekend. In the winter, it is so easy to fall into the routine of curling up on the couch with something good on television until it's time for bed. At the start, as Autumn closes, my energy is still up, and I make us tea or hot chocolate in the evenings; we curl up with books, under blankets, and hold hands to warm up. But as the winter drones on, I grow annoyed with the burden of finding the thickest socks, of making my way quickly from the warmth of bed to the questionable warmth of the shower, of drinking hot tea or coffee just to warm my fingers. At this point, we are just hanging on until it is over, braced against the wind and the snow, grabbing ice-slicked fences to steady ourselves on slippery sidewalks. I've been trying to be more mindful of the food I eat and how much activity I get in a day, but somedays all I want is a warm brownie with cold ice cream. Some nights—like last night—all I want for dinner is a hot baked potato with butter, cheese, and sour cream (fine, I used yogurt). I've been biding my time with yoga and home workouts, but this weekend was such a sweet reminder of what is to come. That this season is passing even as we are in it, and though my muscles are getting tired and my mind antsy of staying indoors for so long, this rest, too, is welcome and needed. Soon enough, the days will feel wasted inside, and I will find relief in a rainy or breezy day.

This morning, the light is noticeably brighter when we leave for work. The birds are noisy and have left a mess all over Mike's car. Even in the 20 degree weather, my face tucked into a scarf, I can see the beginnings of a spring that will usher this winter away.