I hear the word every time I turn around — or almost, it seems.
The word is hygge. It’s no doubt not one that was recently invented, but it’s only been tossed around lately. “Go Huge with Hygge!” screamed the cover of an interior design magazine I stumbled upon not long ago. “Get Back to the Basics Hygge-Style!” yelled another.
You’ve no doubt heard the word. It’s Danish, and it speaks to coziness, intimacy, togetherness. It’s about slowing down. It’s about wellness and contentment. It’s about appreciating the simple things.
I don’t know how to pronounce it. But I sure know how to put it in place, especially right about now.
Yes, sir. Right about now, we’re smack dab in the middle of Hygge Central Time. Right about now, the more the rain pours and the more the wind roars, the house becomes a hygge nest.
I think I’m a little bit Danish.
I do not need an interior design magazine to tell me what to do. Nor does the husband.
Our work day done, we will discard the office clothes and reach for the sweats. The boots will go in the mud room and the slippers will be retrieved.
The fire will be lit, the wine glasses filled.
The more the rainfall pounds on the windows, the better. Once inside, we stay where we are.
In a hygge household, you have a couple of dozen fleecy blankets. I think we have 48.
In a hygge household, you have 10 or 20 throw pillows. I think we have 35.
In a hygge household, the candles don’t just sit there. You strike a match to light them, and that’s exactly what we do.
In a hygge household, you go for the edible pleasures at this time of year. You tend to bypass the hot dogs and the grilled burgers. You make chicken soup. You fill the house with the smell of chili and stew. You pull out the fondue pot before the company comes and eat ‘til it’s almost midnight.
Chocolate? Absolutely. I mean, what says contentment like chocolate?
At this time of year, when we’re weeks away from winter, but when it’s felt like winter for weeks, we hunker down and stoke the fire and embrace the world of hygge.
We’re not about to leave the house — unless we go to Denmark.