Creature Comforts - Winter

        The dark creeped into the house. In my area, winters could get rather harsh. Polar vortices near the lake have become more common over the years. In the more populated areas people tried to work and act like the weather was more of an inconvenience than a hazard. For those of us who lived out in the sticks, we all had our routines for when the storms would hit.

              Before the dark would take over, I would set a kettle up on the woodburning stove with water. Oh I know I could just plug in the electric kettle to get it faster, but I preferred the old method for nights like tonight. The sound it makes when the water is boiling wakes up some old memory, one passed down from generations before television.

              As the water heats up, I continue setting the mood for a quiet night in. Though woodburning stove produces its own output for the senses, I need to add more light to the rest of the room. The candles also helped keep me warm and added a nice smell. I also had this funny idea about putting these sorts of sleeves over them. You know, to create a projection. Over the spring and summer, I made a bunch of them. Some I made from clay, others from wood or metal. I even managed to try my hand at stained glass ones when I started making stained glass decorations; people seemed to love them, I couldn’t keep them in stock! Most of the designs were nature inspired; what specific designs they were depended on how well I worked with the materials. Tonight, I chose a wire one that mimicked a dense forest, which worked well with the dark green walls to give a creepy forest atmosphere.

              Seeing that I was starting to lean towards the creepy witch in the woods, I figured I might as well just go fully into it.

              Choosing candles for my hunkering down period wasn’t too difficult. Those with names such as “Leather-Bound Book”, “Smoking Jacket Lounge”, and “Graveyard Bonfire” were lit. I also lit dragon’s blood incense and nag champa. By this point, between the candles, incense, and the wood in the stove, my house was starting to smell like a temple. I placed the chosen sleeve over a black votive candle and watched the walls dance with the shadowy mimic of branches. The other items that decorated my living room joined in on the dance: the beaded replicas of butterflies and moths glittered. The plants hanging from the rafters made their own shadow dance, with the skulls of animals seemingly watching. Already I felt cozy surrounded by the shadows and smells. However, I had more to do to make myself more comfortable while I waited out the storm.

              Now I know I had mentioned earlier that I preferred using the old kettle for tea over an electric one. However, I know when it’s a good time to use modern indulgences. Heated blankets weren’t things I used until I was well into adulthood, and I must admit I was silly for not using them sooner. Once I got one, I never went back; I got myself a nice green one to match my bedding.

              I retrieved the heated blanket and two of my luxe blankets and brought them to the oversized chair I was going to relax in once I was ready. I set them down on the equally oversized footrest and continue going about my tasks.

              Another one of the relics I’ve collected was a Victrola vinyl player. Some of the electronic bits needed to be replaced and it cried for a new stain. The money put into restoring it was well worth it; I made sure it played as well as the day it was made. For the stain I kept to a darker brown color to match the dark aesthetic of the living room. Underneath I had small boxes of vinyl records that I either inherited or collected from here and there. Everything was sorted by genre, then artist, then year and labeled accordingly. (I know that it makes me sound a little too organized. I take my love of music seriously.) There was a crate that was filled with my own vinyl mixes. I pulled music from the internet and my own disks so I could play them on this. Most of my choices were eclectic: space banjos, lofi beats, slow jazz, dark waltz, synthwave, Norse themed music (especially Heilung and Wardruna), dirty blues, Gregorian chants. You know, weird shit. I put on a record that had some dark waltz music on it and started up the Victrola. Once it started running, I let it be.

              The water is still heating; it’s nearly there but it has a few more minutes before it boils. (Admittedly this has taken a while to boil, but I’m perfectly fine with the waiting part of tea.) I take the time to go back to my room and moisturize. My skin gets dry during this time of year, especially my feet, so I take more time to care for it. I strip down and get some woodsy scented lotion and rub it into my skin. I twist my arms to help me reach my shoulder blades; times like these make me grateful for my mobility. With my feet I use lotion and body oil, then put my clothes back on.

              Before I leave my room, I look over my bookcases to pull out things to read. Seeing as I’m in a dark mood, I pull out some material that matches it: Grimm fairy tales, some dark folklore, ghost stories, cosmic horror. There was the temptation to pull out books about serial killers, but I wasn’t in the mood for that; that’s thunderstorm material.

              When I took my books to the chair, the tea kettle was doing its banshee scream. I took a potholder and moved the kettle aside to stop it. I set my books down on the end table next to the chair before heading to the hutch for a cup. On a night like this, I’d much prefer the kind of cups my dad would call my soup cups. They’re obnoxiously larger than an average coffee cup and hold about a quarter of a pot of coffee. I do have some nice fancy teacups but tonight is a night for shutting myself in with my creature comforts; I also tend to save them for visitors or special occasions.

              I chose a large black cup that I picked up at a local metaphysical shop a few weeks ago, and a gold-colored spoon to stir my tea. The black that was deeper than a starless night sky. I picked up a bottle of honey and poured enough to just coat the bottom. Figuring that since it’s going to be cold out, I chose a ginger flavored tea to help keep me warm. I picked the packet open and dropped the ginger teabag in. Now it was ready for the water.

              There’s a small table near the stove that helps in keeping the cup steady so I don’t accidentally burn myself while pouring hot water again. (I did it once and it took just the one time before I got the table. The couple of days after that were agony on my hand. Fortunately my skin healed fine, almost as if it never happened.) Using the potholder again, I poured the water in, watching the honey disappear as the teabag swirled around the cup. This brief, inconsequential event always amused me. Something about it felt like poetry in motion.

              I carefully took the cup to the end table and set it on one of the ceramic coasters I have before sitting down. Before I sat down, I replaced the record with another. Once I had done that, I sat in the chair and got myself comfortable under my blankets. When that was achieved, I took a book and opened it up, delving into the darkness of another’s imagination while I waited out the storm that finally arrived…