Snuggling into Hyggishness

Dear PomPom is reading a book on "hygge," a Danish word that means: "a framework to support our very human needs, desires and habits.  There is a simple, material structure beneath the immaterial rewards.  To learn to hygge is to take practical steps to evoke it - to shelter, cluster, enclose, embrace, comfort and warm ourselves and each other.  Cultivating the habits of balance, moderation, care and observance will then comfortably ensure more hygge in our daily lives." That's a definition from a book PomPom is reading now. When temperatures finally dip below hotter-than-you-know-where and I begin thinking of sweaters and candles and yarn, it's time for hygge. When the air conditioner is turned off and windows are opened, it's time for hygge. When fuzzy socks feel good again and I drift over to Pinterest for photos of autumn leaves, it's time for hygge.
I bought two 3-wick candles at Bath and Body Works. They're usually $22 each. They were on sale for $12.50, and I had a buy-one-get-one-free coupon. Oh yeah! Two of these beauties for $12.50!

I finished off the first one, "Pumpkin Woods," (see the green wax I dug out of the bottom in the photo above). I'll drop those chunks into the second candle, "Chestnut & Clove," as it burns along. Their candle jars are so nice these days. I washed the first jar and will keep stuff in it. The lid has a plastic seal:

 

I opted to store some long seashell necklaces in mine.

 

The next candle in line will be a scented mason jar from my sister-in-law.
Another warming indicator of autumn is the racket of geese flying in formation overhead. I heard them this morning after tending to my chickens. They didn't fly right overhead as they sometimes do, but I captured their call (and Ned's answering halloo) on my phone video.

  A few days ago Adam prepared steel-cut oatmeal for breakfast, the night before, with dry cranberries. Yummy, comforting, and warm.

I can't quite claim to have arrived at sweater weather yet, but I did weave this morning to the comforting sounds of Handel's "Messiah." Christmas is hyggish to me.
I'm wondering if true Danish hygge actually works in the American Southland. "To shelter, cluster, enclose, embrace, comfort and warm ourselves and each other" is a noble, sensible ambition in that frigid peninsula jutting into the North Sea and mere inches from Norway. In the sweltering South we often say to each other, "Don't touch me; you're too sweaty." These words do not promote much hygge.
The link on the top line above lists 9 things to do to accomplish hygge in your life:
1. Buy candles
2. Make pastries
3. Cycle everywhere
4. Start dropping the word "hygge" into everyday conversation
5. Don't stay late after work
6. Take lunch at 11:00 AM
7. Make porridge
8. Wear black (ladies)
9. Dress for the weather

Okay, some of those are just silly. Ride bicycles? In winter? But I can get into candlelight, pastries, early lunch, warm oatmeal, and cozy sweaters. Yes, please.

Hygge reading!