Today is the one year anniversary of our move to our cottage here at Cultus Lake. As I drove down the lake towards our new home on the day of our move I remember feeling so incredibly lucky that everything had come together and we were actually going to be living here. And I can honestly say that one year later there hasn't been a single day when I haven't been overwhelmed with that feeling all over again.
So given the fact this is our cottage anniversary, it seems fitting to have this month's hygge post focus on home. For new readers who aren't familiar with the term hygge, here is the definition that seems to best sum up its meaning:
Hygge is usually inadequately translated as cosiness. This is too simplistic: cosiness relates to physical surroundings – a jersey can be cosy, or a warm bed - whereas hygge has more to do with people’s behaviour towards each other. It is the art of creating intimacy: a sense of comradeship, conviviality, and contentment rolled into one.
Contentment is a key component to hygge, and I have to say I feel more content here than any other place I have lived as an adult. However, I have to confess that I'm still trying to make this cottage feel like home. Yes, I love it, and yes, the surroundings are beautiful. It's a place people spend a lot of money to come spend a week or two, and I have the incredible privilege of being able to live here. I wouldn't trade being here for anything (well, maybe a croft in Shetland or Scotland).
The thing is though, for the past three decades our home has always had children living in it. We went from adding one child back in 1981 and by the time we finished the expansion we had five. Then the gradual contraction started, and now we are empty nesters. It's very different being empty nesters. Please don't misunderstand. Different isn't bad. In fact, I have to say I quite like buying groceries and cooking for just two people, being able to narrow down who Mr. Nobody is, and not having to worry about other people's schedules.
So now I'm learning how to make a different kind of home. One that is smaller, quieter, but hopefully still warm and welcoming. A place that friends will want to visit. A place that everyone from my eighty year old mom to my one year old granddaughter will feel at home and want to come back to again.
I realized I forgot to do a June Hygge post. Between being sick for most of the month, going to Victoria, and then having our friends from England visit time sort of got away from me. And also, Blogger messed up part of this post, so my apologies if what you see is rather garbled.