If you could see our village buried in snow, spring would not be your first thought: skis prehaps, or hot cocoa or a fire in the fireplace, but spring?

Just as the maple sap will start running in about 14 days, I feel the sap running in my own body. It’s a feeling of beginning again. Planting bulbs, starting a new book, cleaning out the cupboards, buying new clothes.

You might say, “that’s New Years stuff” but this is different. New Years resolutions fix what you have let go – your weight gain, your messy garage, your bulging closet. This feeling is more an awakening from a long sleep – a desire to grow, learn and blossom.

You would think that in my eighties I couldn’t “blossom” anymore. But you’d be wrong. Just like our old, gnarled lilac tree in the front yard will blossom in a few weeks and our ancient apple tree that has fed the deer all winter with fallen, frozen fruit, will blossom again soon, so will I.

So, as the bear stirs in her den, and the buds start forming on the magnolia in our neighbors yard, even in the snow, get ready for that feeling of renewal and hope as the days get longer and the maple sap starts running. Life is an incredible gift.

It’s snowing, blowing and sometimes raining outside. Our little tree is up and glowing with lights and tiny ornaments which lead to memories. A cloth angel moves in the warm air, a memory of a small neightbor girl who made it several years ago. She is almost grown up now. An origami reindeer brings memories of my granddaughter. a college student now.

Christmas, more than any other holiday, connects us to the past, special people who are no longer with us, music that takes you to other days, past smells of Christmas cookies in the oven and the excitement of arriving relatives and friends when you were a child.

I remember shopping with my father each year to find a special present for my mother, a beautiful red purse from England one year, a plaid raincoat another year. I remember the excitement of seeing my cousins arrive to stay with me through school vacation.

What are your Christmas memories?

Because many of you are expecting company for the holidays and looking for things for them to do, I decided to take a page from my book, The Picnic Basket, to suggest a winter picnic. I quote:

“I recall sitting with a friend by a frozen brook in upstste New York one sunny February day. Our lunch was spread out on a log, our snoeshoes leaned against a tree. Above our heads birch branches laced across a brilliant sky. There was no sound but the soft gurgling of the brook beneath the snow and ice and the call of blue jays high in the trees.

“We rested while sipping and spooning hot black bean soup, inhaling the steam and warming our hands on the mugs. A brightly colored homespun dish towel served a our tiny table cloth. On it we placed huge homemade wheat crackers surrounded by spreads, artichoke cheese, veal pate, whitefish and dill. We did not bring wine because alcohol causes body heat loss but we did lace our strong black coffee with a nip of brandy, sipping it with chocolate almond bars for dessert.”

Are you ready for a winter picnic? Or send your guests off with lunch on a bright blue winter day.

Hello all my blog readers. Sorry for the delay in posts on the blog. Right aftrer the last post I was rushed to the hospital for emergency heart surgery.  I’m now in recovery and doing well. However, to be so close to the end of life does have a sobering effect.

I’d like to hear if anyone else has had a moment when they thought life might end.  Were you satisfied that you had done your best?  I remember being happy that I would leave behind loving children. Glad that love would pass on to another generation. I felt like a conduit, having received so much love during my life from my parents and others which hopefully I had passed on.  Love is something one can leave behind, as my mother, Dolly, did, enriching generations to come.