Hygge in Kansas

 Hygge is a Danish and Norwegian word for a mood of coziness and comfortable conviviality with feelings of wellness and contentment. I think of it as quiet satisfaction, and since Kent and I have been working from home for nearly eight months, we’ve –or maybe it’s more accurate to say I’ve—focused on making our home more comfy and cozy, more hygge. And we’ve done a lot!

In no particular order:

I got this because it made me laugh and also goes with the overall colors in our living/kitchen area.

Ding dong the pergola is GONE (and we do not miss it one bit).

I actually got these new house numbers in 2019 but we didn't do anything with them until this year so it counts.

Back yard without the pergola plus you can see our wonderful sun umbrella and the paint scheme.

Action shot of Kent doing I don't even remember what to the umbrella.

Completed paint job plus our new chairs (we also got the table but I'm too lazy to dig up that photo too).

I repainted the sun face (it was green and rusty). It really pops now.

I also repainted Fat Cat, he'd faded a lot and now he's a vivid part of the yar.

I ran two virtual half marathons and also did a COVID virtual challenge (but then of course that stupid bone in my foot broke). But it was all hygge until then.

Hummingbird feeder and a HUMMINGBIRD! I was so excited to see that!

So very many surprise lilies!

A small fountain, which we both love.

I got special mugs and started using the frother on our Ninja coffee maker. I do like a decaf latte.

A tidy solution for all our masks.

The big 72" cat tree. It's now in the second bedroom, and the kittens love it. The platforms are a bit small for our big boy cats.

Two COVID kittens. Definitely hygge.

Privacy screens for the litter boxes (they were in a kid's tent from IKEA, this is a lot less . . . gaudy).

A rowing machine. I made a cover for the rail so it doesn't get dusty, and the kittens think it's wildly fun to play with that fabric.

We reorganized the Billies at the end of our dining room and put a lot of our baking/cooking supplies in there. It's so much easier for me to get stuff now as I'm just 5'4 1/2" and need a step stool for the top shelves of the kitchen cabinets.

I got more cloth napkins, four each of the three you see below. We kicked the paper napkin habit years ago but I wanted prettier ones. 

New kitchen bar stools. Yes they are very orange, also comfortable and work really well in our home.

My office set up, which includes a second table to make an L shaped desk, a second monitor, and my office chair. 

This fabulous tea kettle. The color is ombre, getting darker toward the bottom of the kettle.

Our refurbished Vitamix (that's the chili paste for a pozole in there). So glad we got that.

And a bigger Breville than the one we had (which we passed along to one of Kent's co-workers who adores it). We adore this one and use it nearly every single day.

I get a fever

When I was a little girl, I was sick a lot. Between my evil tonsils and my rotten ears, I was down for the count pretty often with tonsillitis, bronchitis, ear infections, strep throat and—in second grade—mononucleosis. And I tended to pick up any gut virus floating around, something that’s continued to plague me as an adult.

My mother would make me soft boiled eggs on saltines, and I got to drink ginger ale then too. It’s funny, I don’t turn to ginger ale any more when I get sick (probably too closely associated with the various stomach bugs I got), but I still love the soft boiled eggs on crackers.

I will say that no one else in my family loves them the way I do. In fact, they all turn away in disgust. Yes, the eggs are soft and bland (some would say slimy)  but isn't that the point? To eat something soft that won’t hurt a tender throat or upset an already roiling gut? Plus they’re easy to make: simply slip an egg or two into barely boiling water and let them simmer for three minutes. Take them out, crack them open and spoon them over the crumbled-up saltines. Add salt if you so prefer (which I do) and then gratefully eat the supreme comfort meal.

It's a hard boiled egg, but
doesn't it look like a chicken chef?

Kent demonstrated the depth of his love for me a few years back after one of my many surgeries. I really, really wanted the eggs but hadn't recovered enough to go make them. So he did it for me, manfully swallowing his gorge over something he finds so gross. Sad really, if he tried them I think he would like them. Or maybe not.

Anyway, I came home from work last night running a fever over 102F. I haven’t run a fever in years. And I could tell from how I felt that it was almost certainly going to be an unpleasant night with my innards. So I made some soft-boiled eggs on crackers because I was hungry but didn't want to inflame things more by eating something less soft or bland. I thought about taking a picture of them last night to share with you all. I didn't  both because I felt so crappy and also they wouldn't photograph well at all. They look very white and bland—mostly white eggs on all white crackers. But they tasted great.