Letter No1 - Come in from the cold

a warm welcome, a mulled wine recipe & a playlist

Friend,

it is the first of December and I cannot fathom how we got here so quickly, but here we are. Please come in and make yourself comfortable. In the next twenty four days I will write twenty four letters to you. Letters of song, poetry, recipe and story. Some more thoughtful, some light-hearted, but always full heartedly crafted.

These letters have not been pre-written and I’m sure I will regret that at some point or another. However busy these mothering days will get though, it was important to me to freely write what wants to flow through me every day on this journey towards Christmas.

The expecation I have of myself to make this first letter special is making my fingers all stiff on my keyboard. Numb, as if I’ve been out it in the cold winter air without gloves on.

I wonder what your anticipation for this Advent calendar is and wether or not I will be able to fulfill it. Frankly, I don’t have anything profound to say. What I do have is a heart full of warm winter memories and a boundless desire for lighter days ahead.

So I welcome you into this space, like I would if you knocked on my door right now. Ushering you inside on this cold winter day. Have a seat around my table, get cozy. Can I offer you some Glühwein? Some gløgg? This time a year I always have a bottle at hand, or at least the ingredients to make some. Not because I drink so much of it, but rather to have it on hand, when the temperatures, or the company calls for this ritual of a drink that delights with aromas of sweet spices and fruit. No matter how cold you were out there, this will bring the rosiness back to your cheeks. Glühwein, “glow” wine.

Sharing a Glühwein with someone, wether at a Christmas market, or in front of a bakery, or at home in front of the fire, or from a thermos on a blistery walk has always meant that it is cold out there (in the world), but it is still warm here, in this space between us. The cinnamon, the aniseed, the deep notes of the wine, the orange, the clove, a cacophony of wintry scents.

(Quick) Glühwein

1l dry red wine

50 ml rum

2 organic oranges cut into slices

2 organic oranges squeezed

7 cloves

2 cinnamon sticks

3 star anise

50g brown sugar, or more to your liking

Stir the wine, the spices, the orange slices and the freshly squeezed juice together in a pot on low heat and slowly warm up (Do not let it boil!). Add the rum and sugar and heat up again. Strain the aromatics and serve hot.

Now that our hands start to warm as we hold the hot cup between our fingers let’s just visit with each other a bit. I hope that the days ahead will be full of intention and slowness and most of all togetherness, because that’s what this season is about for me. If only the world could come together a bit more.

What are you hoping for these days? For yourself, for the world. Do you welcome this season with joyful anticipation, or do you feel anxiety rising?

If you don’t feel like talking, that is ok. You can just sit here and rest a bit. Let me turn on some music for us. I have a cozy playlist that I like to have on in the background this time of year.

In light,

Eva

If you would like to further support my work as a mother-artist please consider becoming a paid subscriber. For the price of a latte a month you can help make my work sustainable.

This winter, get 20% off an annual subscription between now and December 31st.