To the bone
There was a sudden a brutal cold snap last week, so sudden and brutal that the remaining leaves on the trees conspired to give up the ghost en masse. Fwump, in unison they plummeted to piles on the ground overnight. The only things left are the damn persimmons, dangling orange from naked branches like tawdry baubles on Charlie Brown’s tree. (The sole nice thing about them is their name; they’re truly lousy for eating.)
And this is the first time I can recall winter closing affecting me so deeply, making me crave a deep downy cocoon. It may be any number of things, but I look at the bleak and my limbs are filled with grey and dark rain. Even if there is steady succour in Dean, the kids and the sheer enormity of Oliver’s nose, my brain is so sludge that I’ve even gone to the doctors I avoid, with the plaint of this absence of list. They offer reassurance and pills and batteries of tests; they tell me at my age, it’s winter, it’s normal. And I suppose it is, and that’s the dullest and most damning fact of all.
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Comment
- what you need girl is a good hearty sunday lunch.
that said, strangely, once I had decided it was suddenly now cold and remembered to bring my coat and hat I loved the quick transition from pumpkin hot autumn to icy winter without all that bloody english drizzle inbetween not knowing what season it was!
however, sit with your beloved, rest your jambes lourdes and eat persimmons (which i also love) and all will be well again soon…
xxx
— ruth Nov 29, 5:58pm # - Try to remember that after the first day of winter on December 21, the solstice, the days start to get longer. I don’t mind the cold so much as the dark.
— amelia Nov 29, 8:09pm # - Same predicament here. Ruth and Amelia speak the truth. What can I add?
My tuppence follows thus:
At the risk of getting ‘a bit folk on yer ass’, can I suggest some good company, a few glasses of glugg and a bit of a singsong.
And the tune? How about a bit of Steeleye Span and ‘All around my hat’? All togther now:
All around my hat . . .
— Rob Nov 29, 11:14pm # - Is there a name for that mood? I often thought my wife’s early December darkness was dread at the thought of all the family shenanigan’s upcoming at Christmas, but now that we’ve noticed that the end of the yuletide does not bring the end of the dumps, we wonder if its just the whole winter season itself. I love the snow – I don’t ski or skate, but constantly spin the tyres every where I drive – and her being in the mood she’s in makes me feel almost guilty in my enjoyment of the season.
— Jerry Nov 30, 4:13am # - The dull, boring name is SAD—seasonal affective disorder—and the best cure is sunshine. Or so they say. I have to agree; it isn’t the cold, it’s the dullness and the dark, morning and night. The excitement of the Tiber almost bursting its banks is scant recompense.
Now, as for the persimmons, is it that you don’t like the taste of all persimmons, or just the variety you happen to be blessed with?
— Jeremy Cherfas Nov 30, 12:32pm # - Winter here in San Francisco does not bring frigid cold or snow. We have to drive to the mountains for those pleasures. But what I have come to look forward to during this season is how everything is so intensely illuminated. The sunlight coming from a lower place in the sky shines on the sides of objects rather than the tops. The effect is stunning. Buildings come to life, trees cast intense shadows, and the amber light of dusk lasts just a little longer.
I, too, suffer from winter depression and I do my best to turn it into an opportunity for coziness and quiet reflection. It usually takes a few weeks for me to rebalance. By the time I get used to the season I almost dread the coming of spring and the changing of the amazing light.
Too many years moving way too quickly.
Here’s to you finding peaceful moments within the gray.
— Jeff Nov 30, 7:26pm # - With me, being mostly a night-person, it wasn’t the darkness but the cold. It simply wore me down freezing every day for eight to nine months of every year. This fall I packed a small suitcase & a knapsack & moved to Gran Canaria. I will not go north again.
If you can’t or won’t move, the above advice appear sound. I especially like the one about Steeleye Span. My addition would be a simple refusal to acknowledge the darkness & cold. Also, to go along with the music, the occasional hot whiskey
Take care,
Lars
— Lars Palm Dec 1, 4:52pm # - I’m an east-coast Canadian, and have lived here all my life, so I’m used to the sudden (so it seems) turning of the season. When I was younger and lived at home it didn’t seem so drastic, but now that I’m a full-fledged university student, this time of year brings not just darkness and the expectation of Christmas but also lots of work—writing papers, exams, etc. You’re no stranger to this, Gail, I’m sure. But this year it has affected me quite strongly; the weather mixed with the feelings of “what is life all about anyway?” create a strong inertia.
I’ll agree with the others in that the remedies are:
—to remember that after the 21rst, its onwards and upwards!
—to take in the sunshine when you can get it, and when it’s dark to light candles.
—to distract yourself with things you like (chocolate, good books, etc..)
—somehow, revelling in the gloom.
Cheers! Also, just wanted to say how much I enjoy your site, and have been secretly (meaning, without reciprocal commenting) reading it for a few years now.
— Leah Dec 8, 5:39pm # - Well, thanks for all the sweet thoughts.
Oddly enough, we’re so spoiled by blaring sun and fine weather most of the year round these parts, that even the mildest cold snap seems inordinatetly bitter, and gloom just seems gloomier. And this from someone who has endured a fair share of true northern winters.
But the ability to spend dreary late afternoons with a book fireside does wonders. And, now that children have vehemently nixed my proposal to celebrate Christmas only every three years, I’m sure the tree will do its bit in cheering the air, giving good ambush to my Grinchy undercurrents.
Now all I need are failproof tips on how to keep Hugo from eating all the presents (and the tree, and the ornaments and…)
— gail Dec 8, 6:07pm # - ?Now all I need are failproof tips on how to keep Hugo from eating all the presents (and the tree, and the ornaments and…)?
Heh. The only failproof method I have come up with for keeping the Grrls out of such things is … not to have them ;)
— kt Dec 9, 9:01pm # - Persimmons. People here in Aquitaine tell me that you absolutely must not try to eat them until they’ve gone all soft and mushy. But in my experience, mushy or not, they’re inedible.
— Lesley Dec 15, 8:23pm #
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