Feb. 27, Monday: Ways to Make Yourself Crazy, GUARANTEED.

First of all, look how we've glommed onto the word/concept "hygge", part of which, I think, means not really trying very hard to be comfortable and cozy. And now we're trying really hard to get that!

So open your mind to the infernal crazy-making options of even opening this post: http://www.readitforward.com/bookshelf/the-books-of-hygge/. Look at the list of books: not stories that make us feel cozy or take us to an ordered, reassuring universe, but books designed to make us focus, be "zen", etc.

Then click on this one:
"A Year of Mornings: 3191 Miles Apart is a celebration of remote togetherness, of the routines and rituals that shape our days. It’s a meditation on the kind of connection, remembrance and impermanence that characterize hygge. In photographs that spontaneously share an uncontrived visual language, the two friends and photographers pause and to notice and appreciate details of everyday life in the morning hours before the day begins. Humble and full of quiet vitality and generosity, this book is now echoed by so many blogs and Instagram posts that have appeared in the years that followed its publication.
Their new book, A Year Between Friends has just been published."

Really? REALLY? I can't even consider the mind-blowingly intimidating aspect of reading a book full of one picture for each morning: how are they "spontaneous" and "uncontrived" if the photographers set out to take them and then choose to share them? I laugh when I think about a book of actual moments taken by, say, an automated camera set unforgivingly in my kitchen, set to go off at 5:30 am during school and 7:30 am during the summer. . . . No flowers here, baby. 

And, lastly, read this description of the woman who came up with this whole post: . . . . "was born in Uganda to a Danish mother and English father. Louisa is a mother of four, an amateur naturalist and wild swimmer. She has been a radio restaurant and arts critic and a tribal bellydance teacher. Louisa is interested in the overlooked details of ordinary lives, liminal places, community and craft. She writes about the art of living, the nature of things, our common life and the rhythms and rituals that unite and define us all."

How nice. Can I get that job, too?