Winter Light

Photo courtesy Flickr

My grandmother, who was born in a homestead log cabin, insisted that windows be especially clean in the winter. It makes a big difference: a friend from New Orleans declared Seattle winter survivable after she got to the glazing.

Another housekeeping tutor was a woman of high privilege from one of the smaller countries in Central Europe. Ms. W was careful to keep the incandescent light bulbs and lampshades clean, and she often lit a small fire in the afternoon. Keeping shiny surfaces shiny makes the most of ambient light and, to me, explains the low-tech eighteenth century preference for silver, mirrors, varnish, and satin.

Light's a nutrient, they say, and my portable LED “light box” has leavened many a dismal winter morning. I used to hang out with a fellow who painted in oil, and I just loved the 500w flood light he used to illuminate the canvas he was working on. There's a flood in the corner of the room as I type. We don't have a fireplace any more, and the flood is a close second to the glowing focal point a hearth provides.

Another trick is to find and polish a brass tray. Set glass snowballs, very clean small fruit jars or other clear glass tea light holders on it, light the candles, and call it a portable hearth. The snowballs are the safest candle holders I know, and variants often turn up in thrift stores.

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