When January Settles In
A quieter kind of beginning
The Christmas tree has been carried down to the cellar — the same artificial tree our family has used for over twelve years now. Its branches fold in on themselves easily, familiar and patient. Ornaments are back in their boxes, lights carefully untangled and tucked away. Yesterday wass Epiphany, and just like that, the holidays have quietly stepped aside. Outside, Krootuse is wrapped in snow, the kind that softens every sound. The thermometer shows –8°C, crisp and bright, the sort of cold that makes the air feel clean and awake.
In the kitchen, warmth gathers slowly. A pot of riceflakes simmers on the stove, steam rising gently as I stir. January doesn’t ask for extravagance. It asks for steadiness. From the freezer, I take out a small bowl of strawberries we picked and froze months ago. They melt slowly on the counter, releasing a faint memory of summer. I fold them into the warm rice flake porridge, letting their deep, slightly tart sweetness cut through the softness of the grains.
Life moves on in small, ordinary victories. Henry came back from hip-hop practice yesterday — his first time in years. He was tired, the good kind of tired, and even though it wasn’t easy, he said he’ll go again on Thursday. Roosi, on the other hand, is fully embracing winter. She loves going to kindergarten by sled, gliding there and back, cheeks rosy, laughter trailing behind her like a ribbon in the cold air.
I still have one last week of vacation ahead of me, a soft pause before routines tighten again. There’s time for slow mornings, for watching daylight stretch a little longer each afternoon. Michelle mentioned she’d like us to do something together today — no plans yet, just the idea of shared time hanging gently in the air.
Breakfast doesn’t need to be a spectacle. A warm spoonful, a cup of coffee, the quiet hum of a winter morning. Some stories don’t announce new beginnings loudly. They simply shift, like rooms being aired out after the holidays. The table is cleared, the light is different, and the days are ready to be filled again — one simple meal, one small tale at a time.
What’s on the table today:
Warm rice flake porridge with frozen strawberries from last summer, coffee with milk, and a slow January morning in Krootuse.