Gladness in January
It can be had. For instance, if I sniffed the lovely Chinese bowl of natural potpourri that Sir John Everett Millais has created in his evocative painting, “Pot Potpourri”, I’m sure I would experience a jolt of winter gladness. Today’s potpourri offerings seem rather gaudy to me. A January joy may be to find a wonderful source for naturally fragrant dried flowers and herbs which used to be so plentiful.
One of my favorite January days of gladness were those spent with my paternal grandmother the week between Christmas and New Year’s. We slept in her cold third floor bedroom with floral wallpapered eaves that made cozy little nooks for our dolls. At bedtime, she would drop thick wool blankets on top of us that were scratchy, comforting and smelled very faintly of moth balls from when they were tucked away in her big oak hope chest. Maybe a January joy would be to find the ultimate old-fashioned wool blanket for the bed, perhaps with a traditional silk hem like my grandmother’s.
Gladness in January came to me once with the Christmas gift of an extra-large book of fairy tales when I was a girl. Pouring through it now would bring nostalgic pleasure I’m sure, but it could be really nice to introduce myself to a new large children’s book filled with snowy images accompanied by a happy tale. It’s conceivable that I could also experience another January joy with a beautiful coffee table book flicked through slowly and with an intent eye on each pretty image.
Catching some lovely vintage Christmas films lately, I couldn’t help notice that so many of my favorite protagonists never left the house in winter without a proper hat. I wonder when it became so acceptable to wear a coat without a hat and more importantly, how witless doing that is. Perhaps if we owned and actually wore a hat more regularly, we wouldn’t hibernate so much and we would enjoy winter more. A January joy could be to find the perfect knit hat in the most perfect color and softness and there are so many choices right now (and sales!). I know my head will be gladder.
Oh I know how difficult winter is. It can make small everyday things hard and the air is so biting, the sky so dark…But there is a gladness to its still presence and there are ways to enjoy it if appropriately dressed along with the thoughtful gathering of some small curated pleasures. These are ways to ease the season’s natural hardships and gladden our hearts.
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The gloom of the world is but a shadow. Behind it, yet within our reach, is joy. Take Joy. ~ Giovanni Giocondo
6 Comments
Amy
I worked at Crabtree & Evelyn when I was in college (we played George Winston’s “Autumn” album on repeat, and now when I hear the first notes it pierces my heart). We did carry a wonderful potpourri. Donna, didn’t you write about enjoying the Claire Burke version?
I have bangs and whenever I wear a hat my bangs end up in disarray, but I did buy a pink beret to go along with my pink mittens, scarf and pink Kate Spade handbag and light gray winter coat. Now I just need to gather the courage to wear the beret!
Off to enjoy my Finnish sauna – a true luxury in the Upper Peninsula winters – and then run through the snow in our backyard. Practically all of the homes up here feature them. That’s my formula for a good January!
Dana
I actually enjoy January! It feels like such a fresh start and clean slate. A whole new year filled with possibilities. I do leave the Christmas candles in my windows until spring to add some extra coziness. I have completely forgotten about potpourri- on a hunt now to find the perfect blend. Thanks for the Giocondo quote is beautiful. I printed it and taped it to my laptop as a reminder to always take the joy
Tracy
Yes, I remember potpourri being actual little rosebuds and lavender dried and doused with rose oil.
So very fragrant and beautiful.
It would be offered in a bin and you would scoop out the portion you wanted into a cellophane sleeve.
I remember a shop carrying several Crabtree and Evelyn varieties.
This went the way of the hats. Nice hats that is.
I’m sorry to say I’m not a hat person. I’ve tried. My fine, frizzy, curly hair flattens with hats.
Lined hoods accompany most of my jackets and coats.
They also require less patience from me.
I enjoy your thoughts on cultivating pleasure from the little things.
The birds on the feeder my husband keeps well stocked make me happy.
We all must search for joy in our world.
A Lovely Inconsequence
Yes Tracy! I used to buy potpourri at Faneuil Hall in Boston. A kiosk carried different scents in glass jars and they had cellophane bags and ribbons to tie them with. I was enamored especially with their house special which was a rose scented mixture infused with tiny rosebuds. Not in the least bit cloying and no big chunks of odds and ends like bark, from an overgrown garden!
Carol Trotta
This time of the year definitely feels dark and dreary. The holidays are over, and all those beautiful decorations most people have tucked away. My joy is leaving a few up, this year I am still lighting my star outside my front porch! It gives a wonderful glow to the trees and pond!
Karen
I sincerely hope you’ll share your discoveries with us when you tumble across that blanket, potpourri, coffee table book, and hat! There was a moment for fabulous winter hats at the height of Nancy Lindemeyer’s reign over Victoria magazine–the late 80s-early 90’s saw an embarrassment of millenary riches: velvety, beribboned toques, jeweled berets, embellished flapper clouches, slouchy, spy-worthy fedoras–oh, such natty, cozy wealth!! I owned so many but settle for a modest wool beret or a knitted pork-pie topper to avoid snickers and side-eyes.”Bring back the hat!!!” is a longtime battle cry of mine. Thanks for adding your voice to the ranks of the reluctantly bareheaded!