Make it Monday, my weekly blog post about creative ways to practice self-care, will be on hiatus until March. Why? Well, because self-care is necessary with Baby Boy #2 set to arrive in about 4 weeks!
Reading Wednesday Book Reviews will continue on through because reading is a great way to practice self-care. More on that when Make it Monday returns on March 2, also known as Dr. Suess’ birthday and National Read Across America Day.
It’s the most wonderful time of the year. Or so the song claims. I tend to agree, but also know that such expectation can often leave us wanting more. The wonder and magic of the season can get lost amid the running around, the shopping, the parties, the traveling. Not to mention wrestling with emotional disappointments, family drama, and personal loss. With so much riding on this season it is easy to let it drag us down when it seems like it should pick us up.
Whenever I say, ‘Santa Lucia,’ I can’t help picturing – and, frankly, hearing – Don Knots attempting to sing the traditional Italian song as Barney Fife in The Andy Griffith Show. So many other, better singers have recorded it, but for some reason, Knots’ is the version that sticks in my head.
However, that was not my first interaction with the celebration known as the Feast Day of St. Lucy. I first learned about the primarily Swedish holiday from Kristen’s Surprise, one of the books in Kristen’s American Girl series. Being part Swede and part Italian myself, Santa Lucia Day has become a holiday that fascinates me.
One of my favorite aspects of fall is the changing colors. I know I’m not alone, especially considering there are whole maps forecasting when peak fall foliage will occur. Mid-October is usually when leaves turn across central Wisconsin.
My husband loves beef stroganoff. I usually avoid it. Not because I don’t like it; I’m just allergic to one of the primary ingredients: mushrooms. So I embarked on a journey to find a delicious stroganoff that my husband would love and that I could eat.
In a time when we are all encouraged to practice self-care, whether as mothers, fathers, single, married, older, or younger, we are simultaneously pressured to find that nebulous ‘thing’ that helps each of us capture what will restore our weary souls. Then, if we do discover it, we must find a way to incorporate it into our lives. This task becomes all the more difficult when what feeds us is an allusive concept as easy to grasp as the fog on a rainy day.
