A Quiet Little Christmas Tour Of My Home
Dear friend,
I feel so grateful to share something special with you this week — our annual cottage Christmas tour. Before you watch, I should mention that a bit of extra time went into tidying the cottage. Our little home does, in fact, include plenty of dog hair, D&D dice, and craft projects on the norm.
But with those extras tucked away for the moment, I hope you’re able to feel a bit of joy as you watch Stuart and Jeremy play, and take in the soft glow of Christmas in our little nook of the world.
Hot toddy for the lady, please…
Man cannot live by marshmallows and hot chocolate alone, which is why I’m inviting my favorite hot toddy along to the Christmas party. If I hadn’t already used up every last cinnamon stick, I’d most certainly tuck one into each glass for decoration and spice. Alas, I’ve enjoyed a few hot toddies in my day, and our cinnamon supply is quietly awaiting its January restock.
Hot Toddy
Ingredients:
1 shot of bourbon (I like bourbon; Stu prefers Scotch)
1 tablespoon of honey
1 tablespoon of freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 cinnamon stick
Enough hot water to fill your mug
Instructions:
Simply combine everything in your favorite Christmas mug and enjoy — preferably snuggled on the couch in your sweatpants with Great Expectations, or standing outside by a bonfire while chili simmers on the stove.
“Laura felt a warmth inside her. It was very small, but it was strong. It was steady, like a tiny light in the dark, and it burned very low but no winds could make it flicker because it would not give up.”
Little treasures from the week
So far, so good?
In a desperate seasonal act, I lugged my twin 80-pound ferns inside for the winter last month, nestling them alongside the tub and shower off our bedroom.
My brain knows this winter-fern-mission is in vain and that in January I’d be cursing their very nature as I filled my dustpan with their shrunken foliage — but I couldn’t help myself. For the gardener who grieves the loss of touching and sensing her many outdoor treasures, it was, in fact, a last-ditch attempt to keep pieces of it for her own winter survival.
The “twins” reside in our bathroom, a room that has soft eastern exposure and no forced air. Because I’ve taken to the habit of dipping into the tub at least once per day during this grey season, I’d like to think my bathing has given them the humidity and warmth they desire to stay green and viable forever.
Or spring would do just fine, too.
I’ve read my fair share on overwintering ferns, though my attempts have never been successful. They always look promising (the gardener grows confident, does she not?) and then they (always) break her heart, turning into brittle skeletons of their former glory.
So I beg you, dear reader: help me keep these ferns alive. For now they’re green and well, even showing signs of new growth which gives me (gasp) hope indeed. If you have a secret to keeping them thriving through winter, please share it with us common folk in the comments.
My hope is that this letter finds you with your table, and heart, full.
