Winter has officially arrived in Kentucky. There was a little snow this morning. I think my dogs were as surprised as I was—they did their business immediately and came running back to the house like something had bitten them on their behinds—it was the cold, of course, that bit them. But why am I surprised? After all, it’s December. I know. But biting cold is always a little shocking to me. You could tell me you were going to put ice down my back, and I would try to prepare myself (if I couldn’t get away) but the actual feelng of ice sliding down my back would still shock me—and make me very unhappy.
I’ll hang sleigh bells from the backdoor, and then I’ll wait.
Still, as much as I hate the cold—and I really, really do—winter offers so many treasures. At no other time is my kitchen so full with life and love and laughter. So, I’ll dust off my recipes for beef stew and cornbread and homemade sugar cookies. I’ll stack Christmas CDs by the CD player and boardgames near the fireplace.
I’ll push the cold of darkness away with the warm welcome of candlelight in all the windows.
I’ll hang sleigh bells from the backdoor, and then I’ll wait.
I’ll wait for my family to come through that door in a great rush—just like my dogs—at the end of each day, happy to be home, safe and warm, loved and adored, ready to eat and play games and sing songs and bake cookies. Winter is the only time when my kitchen is as full as my heart, night after night. Hooray! And Yahtzee!
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