Hunkering down
Years ago, toward the end of each one of my pregnancies, I’d get the strong, uncontrollable urge to “nest”: I’d clean drawers, bake casseroles to keep in the freezer, wash bedding, fold blankets. Despite my bulging belly and aching back, it was an instinct to do these things. I don’t think I could’ve stopped if I tried. Something deep in my DNA was demanding that I prepare, as if my brain and my body comprehended on a cellular level how I could get ready now to help out my future self, who would be both exhausted and lovestruck with a new precious baby. These things had to happen before I headed to the hospital. Now.
This week I decided to make bone broth—chop up onion, carrot, and celery, and garlic, then boil the bones until all the flavor and marrow are extracted. Out of my stockpot came a rich, golden liquid, which I then poured into jars. I’m not sure if it was the dreamy smell or the way the afternoon sunlight made those jars glow a warm amber color, but I felt that same nesting instinct I’d felt all those years ago before the babies were born. At that moment, I felt like I was born to make bone broth. I decided right there and then that I would make more bone broth with the ardent fervor of a Prohibition-era bootlegger. I can’t help but wonder: what is the street value of bone broth sold out of the trunk of my car?
This instinct to hunker down and nest makes perfect sense. As the pandemic still rages across the country, we are being told to stay home. We are asked to forego our usual family gatherings at the holidays to curb further spread of the virus. I’m approaching the coming months with trepidation. Our traditions may have to be put on pause this year; or at least adapted.
I’m going to require a plan heading into these next few months. I need new ways to keep my spirits up and make these dark, cold months feel warm and special. But other than bone broth, I don’t have further tricks up my sleeve. I decided to ask my friends how they were preparing for this season of “hunkering down.”
The responses I got were wonderful.
Kendra has already washed her flannel sheets, and moved her cold-weather clothes to the top drawers where they are easier to reach.
Jennifer is planning outdoor adventures like visiting a tree farm and taking in light shows at the arboretum and the zoo. She’s also treated herself to some new festive pillows to create a cozy “hot cocoa zone” on her front porch.
Dulce’s family is getting matching raccoon onesies to wear, a lighthearted tradition that can continue this year, since it’s all about staying home and being cozy.
Catherine and her friends are ordering takeout food so they can all enjoy the same meal remotely. Karen is finding “Escape Rooms in a Box” that can be done at home in place of their traditional family Escape Room activity.
A few friends are using the extra time they’ll have to better themselves. Jayne and Terri are both learning Spanish. Heidi is going to focus on her mental health with medication, therapy, and joyful movement.
Ellen already has a fragrant rosemary bush at her place, decorated with tiny lights and decorations. She says it will get her through the tough days.
Liz says she’ll miss being with extended family, but she won’t miss “having to peel and mash ten pounds of potatoes.”
Terri is reminiscing about her late mother-in-law and she upcycles costume jewelry into family keepsake ornaments. Liz is sorting and organizing old pictures. When she texts a photo to a relative, they swap stories and memories, proving to be a good way to stay connected remotely.
These ideas from my dear friends give me hope. Sure, 2020 isn’t the year we bargained for, but we can prepare, get a few tricks up our sleeve to make even this season a joyful one to remember. We need light, warmth, coziness, shared memories, and definitely some fun and laughter.
Hunker down, folks. Stay cozy. Make some new memories.
