The last couple of days have started the season of Cold Pants when it becomes painful to sit down after walking in a cold, brisk wind. It was about a year ago when I put forth my Cold Pants Theorem and proved it.
Honestly, when I go out in a cold wind, I can’t believe that my pants will ever be supple enough to bend with my body when I need to sit down, especially when I’m wearing jeans. They hardly move while I walk either. It’s as though they are frozen into one position, like the proverbial dirty pants that one can stand up in the corner on their own.
One of my delights this month, however, is a beautiful bluish vintage jar full of Paperwhite Narcissus bulbs given to me by my brother-in-law and his wife for Christmas. It sits on my kitchen window and has been in bloom now for about a week, defying the grays and browns of the landscape and the wind whipping through our backyard as if it is late for a soul-selling appointment with Mephistopheles.
In the winter I find my little joys wherever I can: flowers in the house, candles, tall mochas, and warm cinnamon scones. It need hardly be said, though, that I would trade these quickly for the coming of spring and summer.