I am guilty. Even as I sit outside under a balcony of trees taking their sweet time letting go of the last fistfuls of leaves, I am anxious about winter. It is sweater weather in November, and instead of indulging in the miracle of today, I anticipate late January as if it were a runaway freight train.

Astonishingly, there are two roses on a bush by the deck. I do not deserve them. On the contrary, the bush was planted by someone else, and is only watered by the sky. Yet it has graced me, in late autumn, with its petals.

There is a pithy article about winter in Norway.  The author went to live there for a year to find out why there is not more seasonal depression in the country that skirts the north pole. But she discovered that even her question was skewed. The Norwegians welcome winter, and find ways to embrace it, rather than endure it. The word koselig translates loosely to coziness. It invokes warm cocoa, and a crackling fire. But it doesn't stop there. Norwegians head outside even when the sun never rises above the horizon, savoring the perpetual sunset on the snow. 

The article suggests that we forego our participation in the Misery Olympics. Stop bonding through complaints about the cold. I can remember running into a friend pumping gas last February. We stood there stomping our feet and I succumbed to whining. Why did I not ask what was good in her life? 

It is tempting in marriage to fuss about what is missing. What used to be. But perhaps a wiser response is to look for what is. 

The people of Norway have created a strong sense of community. They sprinkle festivals and celebrations through the winter months. I am already excited about an event next Valentine's Day weekend. The Marriage Conference is a wonderful chance to bring coziness to your life. 

There will be hot cocoa. And quilts.