Winter. Not even the word sounds inviting. Not like 'spring' with its uplifting 'ing' at the end forcing your voice to rise with a positive note. No, 'winter' ends with a thud and comes off your tongue in an dull low note like a brick hitting mud. Cold winds, icy fingers, dry skin put winter at the bottom of the four season 'like' column. Short days make us grumpy, wearing a too heavy coat in the car makes us uncomfortable, and who can live with hat hair and static cling? A million years ago when I wore panty hose to work I kept a can of spray guaranteed to ease the cling in my desk drawer. It only partially worked and smelled awful and then I smelled awful. I think I will let that memory go.
Oh winter, how I loath you ....but not really.
I like soup. Steamy,hot, filling soup. Its the elixir that can make you feel good. Warm, and comforted with only a spoon and bowl. Bean soup with leftover Christmas ham, chicken soup with just the right amount of carrots, tomato basil soup tangy and creamy. All soup is good except maybe lentil but that's just me.
It is completely true to say I don't like winter but its also completely true to say I like what winter brings. Crystal ice sparkling on tree branches, frosty grass with a distinct line of demarcation where the sun touches, long nights and cozy quilts. All good things. All comforting things. All parts of winter. The classic good with the bad struggle made better by the familiar...a simple bowl of soup.