Barbie World + [blog]

Nesting and Nor'easters.

For the man sound in body and serene of mind there is no such thing as bad weather; every day has its beauty, and storms which whip the blood do but make it pulse more vigorously.
George Gissing
From a comfortably safe distance, I'm actually looking forward to the arrival of "Frankenstorm."

I like severe weather, a lot. I'm sure part of that is because I've never been subject to something truly serious -- the worst storm conditions I've experienced were courtesy of Snowmaggedon two years ago, when I bravely stupidly drove up the back of Mount Washington in order to watch the Super Bowl with a bunch of friends, none of whom ended up coming because, duh, who drives up a mountain after a severe blizzard? This girl, the one in the rickety '98 Honda Accord, that's who (RIP, you old black beauty, you were the best).

I also have a deep love for freak storms because they stoke the burning embers of my life-long passion, which is "cozying down." After unpacking from my trip to the grocery store yesterday, our pantry shelves were pleasantly groaning (we would be too, later, on the couch). We now have blankets at the ready, freshly baked cranberry bread, and candles galore. The sky looks gray and miserable, the rain is steady, and if I were at home right now, things would be very nearly perfect (sitting in a cubicle at work takes away from the homeyness just a tad).

My uncle correctly pointed out that this cozying down business is also known as "nesting." From what I hear, this nesting instinct can get pretty serious when Baby is getting closer to making the big debut, but I think it will be a completely useless sign of impending labor for me come spring.The truth is... I've been both cluttering and nesting my entire life. I am not a neat, orderly person by nature, but I do love to make my surroundings look pretty, to have good food in the kitchen, to make my house homey and comfortable and inviting.

As usual, Anne says it best...

"How the home lights shine out tonight through the dark!" said Anne. "That string of them over the harbor looks like a necklace...Our homelight, Gilbert! Isn't it lovely to see?"
"Just one of earth's many millions of homes, Anne-girl--but ours-- ours--our beacon in `a naughty world.' When a fellow has a home and a dear, little, red-haired wife in it what more need he ask of life?"
"Well, he might ask one thing more," whispered Anne happily. "Oh, Gilbert, it seems as if I just couldn't wait for the spring."
Hoping you can all cozy down and ride out Sandy's arrival as well. Bake some bread, light some candles, grab some blankets, and stay safe!