Astronomically speaking, the first day of winter is today. Meteorologically speaking, the first day of winter is December 1st. In the desert, it seems winter starts a little earlier than that. It seems much colder this year. Perhaps that’s because my old bones are a year older. It’s certainly not because I’m any less padded. Oh well, my Grandfather used to say a woman needs extra padding to make it through a hard winter. If that’s the case, I’ll surely survive a few more even if the power goes out.
Today we observe the Winter Solstice. It’s the day with the shortest number of daylight hours and the longest night. To my Alaskan readers I can only say that I don’t know how you do it. It’s hard enough to get everything done in 9 daylight hours. You folks get it done in a little over 5 hours. To my readers in the Southern Hemisphere, chuckle on. I know you’re basking in summers warm temps. You’ll get your turn at winter in a few months.
The winter and summer solstice refer to the shortest and longest days of the year while the spring and autumn equinoxes fall on days with the same amount of day and night hours. For me, the winter solstice is when I say Goodbye to my favorite time of year, while marching towards the longer days of spring. For me, it’s the long winter nights that are a bit trying. Until last night.
For years, I’ve been developing the ideal bed. One-third of our lives are spent sleeping. Add a few more for retirement napping. It should be peaceful and cocoon-y, not tossed and turned like a green salad. Slowly, I’ve amassed the right number of down pillows, a down comforter, and a mattress that can flip into zero gravity with the press of a button. I was still missing the main component. Sheets.
I remember the days of my mother hanging her sheets on the clothes line to dry. Farmers were the original “Green” inhabitants of this world. The sheets would smell sunshine fresh when we crawled into bed. Laundry was another big detail that Mother handled masterfully with the help of her five minions. Even our pillow cases were freshly ironed every week. A proper German household she ran.
Over the past year, I’ve attempted to find sheets of olden days. In the 1900’s, sheets were sheets. The best quality sheets were percale cotton. They didn’t cost enough to break the bank. A boring part of life, you bought white cotton sheets that lasted decades. Use. Weekly wash and dry on the line. Use again. With each use, the sheets got softer and softer, but remained serviceable forever.
There was no such thing as fitted sheets at our house. WE all knew how to dress our beds in military style, tight with boxed corners. It had to meet with her approval. That’s just how it was done. For years. How I wish I had those sheets today.
Over the last year, I’ve come to one conclusion. No matter the amazing thread counts or promise of the finest cotton and finish, good sheets cost some dough. Sticker shock will get you if you’re not prepared.
Christmas time is a time for gifts. This year, I tried to gift myself a robot to vacuum my floors. It ate my Christmas tree skirt. Alexa already has control of the house, she doesn’t need any more gadgets to commander. At a bit of a loss, I’d almost given up on the idea, when I realized something I really needed. Sheets fit for Presidents. Royalty. And one widowed woman living in the wide spot of a dusty little road off the interstate on the high desert plains of Nevada. Me.
On the internet, you can find such luxuries. I did. I shopped a 40% off sale, settled on flannel, and pushed “Complete Purchase”.
When the box came, I couldn’t wait. I know. I know. It’s not Christmas yet. But it IS Christmas week. Slowly, I opened the exquisite packing box. Inside, there they were. The most beautiful flannel sheets in “Coastal Grandma” Buffalo plaid. Tan, Light Grey, and Beige. The stitching is perfection. The fabric, a herringbone weave of flannel. The weight just right. It’s as if I went back in time to the days that everything high quality was made in America. Well, not quite. These were made in Portugal from Egyptian cotton, but you get the idea. These sheets are 1900’s yummy.
Last night was the test run. I am here to report that the quest for great sheets is over. I have a winter set that will last much longer than I will. Mission accomplished.
Through the next three months, the trees of Winterpast will continue their deep sleep. Although they shudder in the high desert winds, any other sign of life is gone. Outlined with frosty snowflakes at times, the back yard takes on a different beauty. On full moon nights, the outlines of the trees make their ghostly appearance through my bedroom blinds. Eerie shadows dancing outside the bedroom window cause me to turn away as I fall asleep.
Winter on the desert includes another magical event as random and illusive as the mustangs. Pogonip. One day last year, while out walking, I noticed the air was sparkling with floating glitter. The beauty of the moment caught me off guard and I had to stop. Truly, I thought I’d lost my ever-lovin’ mind. The faintest sparkles were hanging in the air like tiny diamonds, while swirling this way and that. I didn’t mention it to anyone for awhile for surely I’d imagined it. After asking a local, I found it was real. It’s called pogonip, or freezing fog. I normally hate fog, but the next time this occurs I plan to Pachanga through the pogonip. The desert is a magical place, perfect for a Pachanga Party.
Winter holds time to think and redirect. Time to envision new garden plans. Time for soup and yummy hot dishes. Time to sleep a little later in the morning and turn in a little earlier each evening. Time to cuddle with photo albums and smile at the happy memories made so long ago. Time for new memories with someone very special. Winter is the loveliest of seasons.
Whatever you do today, enjoy the Winter Solstice. Have some hot chocolate while wrapping presents and listening to Christmas music. There are only a few more days until candlelight and celebrations. Enjoy!
More tomorrow.