As I sit here gazing out the window...cup of coffee in hand...at a winterscape, I find myself pondering two things:  winter and how quickly the time has flown.  I've now owned this house wince 2015, and I've actually lived in this house (my forever home) since 2017.  Here in the Northwoods winter is a reality that has to be dealt with this time of the year.  It is beautiful in its bleakness.  It's also good to have a good furnace that keeps the home warm and comfortable. 

Spring is a distant season now in January...but it will soon be here.  Thank you Universe for all of the prosperity in my life...for life itself, for love, for friends and family...and for the wee cottage in the woods.

On a recent early summer day I arrived home.  In the morning I'd been out and about having breakfast with a dear friend, did some book shopping.  Then I drove home.  Upon pulling into the driveway this feeling of having arrived home washed over me.  Since moving into this house three years ago it was the first time that this feeling of pleasure and comfort were mine to enjoy.

An old quote declares "home is where the heart resides."  Yes this is true.  However, Melody Beattie says it even better:  "Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend."

Over the years I've been blessed with many homes.  My parent's home where I grew up, college dorms (well, kind of home), apartments, condos, and townhouses.  Each place I've enjoyed and cherished.  However, when I purchased this house and then moved into it...I had the hardest time accepting it as home.  Yet here I am knowing that finally...I've arrived home.  

Already these rooms have been filled with love and laughter and memorable events.  All of these things make a house a home  And for that I am eternally grateful.

Thank you Universe!

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This is not posted under my recipe sections for it is not so much a recipe as a celebration of the start of summer.  And even though the calendar says summer does not start until June 20/21, here in the Northwoods it is at hand.  BTW, my pasta salad is nothing more than a box of any pasta I might find in the cupboard and a lot of creativity.  In this case it was elbow macaroni, tuna, celery, sliced olives, and mixed vegetables tossed with a sweet Italian salad dressing.

Oh...and while preparing the pasta salad...I had a bloody Mary.  My bloody Mary is nothing more than vodka, Clamato...and garnish (in this case spear of pickled asparagus and sliced bread & butter pickles).

The pasta salad and the bloody Mary were both enjoyed.  Trust me.  And that is how I welcomed summer to the wee cottage in the woods.

​And today...yes today...as I walked into Wayne’s (in Luck) to get a salad kit, there was a big sign proclaiming that June is “National Dairy Month”. I thought to myself: “Self, yes, let’s celebrate with a Tanqueray & tonic!”

Here in the northwoods spring comes slowly and reluctantly.  Yet when it arrives it is glorious for it arrives with a cacophony of color as well as a cacophony of sound.  Flowers bloom and birds sing.  While the eye settles on the latest freshest flower to emerge the ear is blessed with the songs of robins, warblers, finches...and even Canadian Geese.  As the soft spring air ushers in through the open French door, I now know that I want to fill my cup with fresh coffee, sit on the porch, and revel in the embrace of this wonderful day. 

I leave with you this wonderful Robert Frost poem:

A Prayer in Spring

Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers to-day; 
And give us not to think so far away 
As the uncertain harvest; keep us here 
All simply in the springing of the year. 

Oh, give us pleasure in the orchard white,
Like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night; 
And make us happy in the happy bees, 
The swarm dilating round the perfect trees. 

And make us happy in the darting bird 
That suddenly above the bees is heard,
The meteor that thrusts in with needle bill, 
And off a blossom in mid air stands still. 

For this is love and nothing else is love, 
The which it is reserved for God above 
To sanctify to what far ends He will,
But which it only needs that we fulfil. 

When I was growing up, my parents subscribed to a magazine called "Reader's Digest."  "Reader's Digest" also published condensed books...and my parents also got those in the mail.  In one of those condensed books was a novel called "The Winter of Our Discontent."  To be honest I have no idea of the subject of the novel.  Most likely is was a 1960's version of dealing with a crumbling marriage.  Regardless, the title of the novel has stuck with me throughout my years.

This winter which turned brutal the second half of January...and here we are on March 3, with -16 (F) outside...there is not one crocus pushing its flowers above the ground!  The above picture was taken during the snowstorm we got on March 1.  With no end to the cold and snow in sight, I find myself suffering from cabin fever...I find myself in the "winter of my discontent!"

However, I am a Wisconsinite.  I am a northerner.  As such, I am used to snow and cold and I know that winter will eventual cede to spring.  I know I will survive.  So on this Sunday morning I set aside the discontent I feel and take on the joy of living...and the joy of anticipating spring arriving.  Soon the sun will be warmer, the snow will melt, the streams will rush with fresh clear water, and gardens will come back to life.  All I have to practice is patience.

...and I will be then be complaining about the heat!!!   ...and that is life in Northwestern Wisconsin.