What’s the sense of using my 600+ words to cry. What I am going to do is share my antidotes, my guilt-free machinations for coping. The only requirement is that you must love to hunker in.

And that my friend is a specialty of mine. The first hint of contrary weather sends me into the hunkering mode. If you think the droves of shoppers at the market 12 hours before an impending storm are a sight to behold, you ain’t seen nothing.

First of all, my larder is always full, so I don’t need to shop for essentials. The list I make to prepare for hunkering in includes flowers, books, at least one new CD, lemons, a piece of fine cheese, a couple of good bottles of wine, some exotic treat and plenty of rock salt.  Now I am ready for whatever comes down the pike and out of the sky. Why do I need these particular things?

The flowers are obvious, a little color, a little promise, a little hope. Books because there will be plenty of time to read either in front of the fire or under the covers. Often when hunkering in its fun to take a late afternoon nap under piles of covers (with or without another warm body). Then fully rested you can stay up beyond midnight and read with the moonlight pouring in your window. Oh what a special treat!  Another option, after a good night’s rest is to awake before sunrise, pour a cup of coffee, get back into bed and read until you finish your book. 

The new CD, combined with comfortable old favorites, provides the perfect cocoon to wrap around yourself as you attempt to close out whatever is going on beyond the walls of your home.  I often play and replay a set of five or six CDs throughout the day. The music is a wonderful backdrop for whatever I am doing.

Ah, the lemons, what were some of your thoughts when you saw lemons on my hunkering in list?

Anyone who knows me knows my affinity for lemons and anything lemon. The lemons are to complement the endless pots of tea that one brews while hunkering in. My favorite tea is a loose tea called Chopin, brought back from Poland by a friend.  What can help beat the winter blues better than a cup of hot tea with lemon, toast with a favorite jam or in my case, lemon curd, and Chopin in the teapot and on the CD.

I am very content now. Occasionally I notice the dripping of freezing rain on the window as it competes for my attention while I bang away on the keyboard of my computer. What a great time to write. No distractions or places to go, appointments to keep and things to accomplish.

It’s turning out to be a great day.

Hopefully no one will call to burst my bubble. You know the conversation is bound to include the “elements.”  When you choose to hunker in, you have made a definite decision to ignore the outside, that’s why it’s called hunkering IN.

I will probably hear from my daughter who remembers the hunkering in days from her childhood and will call to chide a bit. “Your grandmother is the champion of hunkering in,” she tells my grandsons. 

As I go about switching on lights around 4 o’clock, it’s almost time for the ultimate indulgences of cheese, wine and that exotic treat (usually something chocolate) to fortify me. The wind starts giving out with buffeting blows against the windows and doors. The fireplace is blazing. Its time to put up my feet. I now have time to read the Travel Section from last Sunday’s New York Times and let my imagination take me to some far off place.

What a wonderful title to hold, “Champion of Hunkering In.”