(Pronounced "hue-gah" or "hoo-guh")
A happy memory: playing last summer on the patio at my brother Aaron & sister-in-law Pam's when they hosted the 2022 family reunion. |
Hygge is conversation circle game, with really thoughtful questions (not those absurd kind like "Would you rather be blind or deaf?" or "Would you jump off a cliff?" and so forth.)
For example, over the Christmas holidays my friend Diane gave me a couple of good ones to choose from:
2. Has there ever been a time when you thought,
"It doesn't get any better than this"?
I had two answers for each question:
1. Life - changing books:
The Women's Room by Marilyn French
The Alphabet versus the Goddess by Leonard Shlain
2. It doesn't get any better than this:
On a daily basis, I often have the feeling when swimming laps
As a life event, I would have to say the magical Christmas of 1989, , when Gerry and I visited the university town of Maynooth where he had lived for nine years before coming to the U.S. I had never been to Ireland before, and Gerry had not been back since his relocation to Indiana, over two years previously. Gerry likes to tell the old joke that whenever a plane lands in Ireland, things are so backward and behind the times that the pilot advises the passengers to set their watches back a couple of decades -- or even centuries, Brigadoon style. Haha. For me, however, this turned out to be a good thing, not regressive but nostalgic, just like the movies. You know, that cinematic nostalgia for a time that has never actually been.
We had driven straight from the Dublin airport in our rental car, parked at the curb on Main Street (yes, just like in America), and the moment Gerry stepped out of the car, someone dragging a Christmas tree down the sidewalk (purchased moments before from the local lot), called out "Hey, Gerry me lad" (or something like that; not that I know how to write -- or speak! -- with an Irish accent, but you get the idea)! It was exactly like a scene from any all - American Christmas movie that you might care to name.
We had shared our plans with only one family -- the friends with whom we were staying; so it's not as if the entire campus was expecting us, yet several other people came right over to greet us or waved and called out as they passed by. I could hardly believe it! Was it a set - up? We went in the pub -- The Roost, where Gerry had been a regular -- for some cheese sandwiches, and it was the same thing all over again: "Oh, have a seat here mate." Truly it was as if Gerry had never been away. You would have thought the last time he'd been there was maybe for lunch the day before. I couldn't help thinking of Cheers: everybody knew his name; they were glad we came! For one brief shining moment, the hazy scene on a glittery Christmas card came to life before my eyes, so quaint and true and unforgettable.
After Ireland, we went to Germany where my sister Peggy took me to the Heidelberg Christkindlmarkt -- pure magic, right down to the Strohstern and the chestnuts roasting on an open fire!
And then on to England where Gerry's parents made sure that my first British Christmas included every traditional element that we could squeeze into our schedule:
Holly tucked behind each picture on the wall
A Carol Concert at the Liverpool Philharmonic
A Panotmime at the Liverpool Empire
Midnight Mass at Little Crosby Church
Giblet Soup for a Midnight Snack
Christmas Crackers with prizes and paper crowns
A Figgy Pudding with brandy sauce,
and a silver sixpence hidden inside
A Christmas Cake with a snow scene on top
The smallest mince pies I had ever seen
(until Gerry and I started making them even tinier)
A Sherry Trifle on Boxing Day
Shopping in Southport at Laura Ashley & Past Times
"It doesn't get any better than this!"
See also my friend Victoria's answer:
"It doesn't get any better than Scotland! If it's too cold to play outside,
come on inside for a round of Hygge!
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