Chelsey Cosh's Blog: From Mind to Mouth - Posts Tagged "writing"
The Rest Is Beautiful Noise
Long story short: I bought a guitar.
Long story long: I needed a family doctor. Scratch that. We needed a family doctor. My husband's doctor is established in a city that he hasn't lived in since he was nine years old; it's such a hindrance to travel there that he rarely went at all. I, on the other hand, had a local family doctor that I just detest. Prone to grave errors due to his advanced age and a darkly warped sense of humour that I can only imagine he's always had, my doctor hasn't seen hide nor hair of me for at least a decade. So, together, we went on the wild goose chase to find that most rare of treasures: a family doctor accepting new patients. What I found is that, after compiling a mighty list of doctors alleging that they were accepting some newbies, the reality was that they were only accepting them this coming fall or in 2017 or on the fifth Wednesday of every month except the one we're in. Anyway, I narrowed and narrowed until we had a meagre list of three. Then off we went for our first visit with one. Now, we didn't choose her for a variety of reasons, but she said something that did pique my interest. In a rather odd line of questioning, she asked me if I played a musical instrument. I said, "No," but the absurdity of the query caused me to dwell upon it. I impulsively purchased Rocksmith 2014 , which I had heard was a fantastic teaching tool, and set about learning.
Now, my husband owns two guitars: one acoustic and the other electric, which is the kind you need in order to use Rocksmith. The problem arose, though, when my left shoulder began to ache from reaching. See, my husband is over six feet tall, so the neck of his guitar, while fine for him, is nearly larger than my entire armspan. So, as an early birthday gift, he bought me a pink Fender stratocaster, one in a more suitable size for someone of my stature. Let me tell you: not only does it play like a dream, but my shoulder is fine and it looks like a work of art sitting on the stand in our bedroom.
It's been a little over a month, but I have already made some progress in my Gitarrelernen. I have already got "Blitzkrieg Bop" down pat although not up to tempo, while I've mastered a few riffs from The Temptations' "My Girl", Magic Wands' "Black Magic", and -- of course -- Deep Purple's "Smoke on the Water".
What does this have to do with books? Well, one, and this is a soft connection, I think Goodreads is equally about learning as it is about literature, since most people pursue reading in order to learn something. Even if it's just an escape into a fictitious world, a reader often finds that they learn a little about themselves through the novels they devour. And since I am learning guitar, I figured I'd share that tidbit.
Secondly, and this one is more fundamentally connected to books, I am writing a book where rock music plays a large role. This excursion into actually playing the guitar allows me a greater appreciation of the art form (really, my mind is blown by some songs now) while serving double duty as research for my writing. So, win-win all around.
And, in the end, yes, we did happen to find a family doctor and our blood pressure is fine.
Long story long: I needed a family doctor. Scratch that. We needed a family doctor. My husband's doctor is established in a city that he hasn't lived in since he was nine years old; it's such a hindrance to travel there that he rarely went at all. I, on the other hand, had a local family doctor that I just detest. Prone to grave errors due to his advanced age and a darkly warped sense of humour that I can only imagine he's always had, my doctor hasn't seen hide nor hair of me for at least a decade. So, together, we went on the wild goose chase to find that most rare of treasures: a family doctor accepting new patients. What I found is that, after compiling a mighty list of doctors alleging that they were accepting some newbies, the reality was that they were only accepting them this coming fall or in 2017 or on the fifth Wednesday of every month except the one we're in. Anyway, I narrowed and narrowed until we had a meagre list of three. Then off we went for our first visit with one. Now, we didn't choose her for a variety of reasons, but she said something that did pique my interest. In a rather odd line of questioning, she asked me if I played a musical instrument. I said, "No," but the absurdity of the query caused me to dwell upon it. I impulsively purchased Rocksmith 2014 , which I had heard was a fantastic teaching tool, and set about learning.
Now, my husband owns two guitars: one acoustic and the other electric, which is the kind you need in order to use Rocksmith. The problem arose, though, when my left shoulder began to ache from reaching. See, my husband is over six feet tall, so the neck of his guitar, while fine for him, is nearly larger than my entire armspan. So, as an early birthday gift, he bought me a pink Fender stratocaster, one in a more suitable size for someone of my stature. Let me tell you: not only does it play like a dream, but my shoulder is fine and it looks like a work of art sitting on the stand in our bedroom.
It's been a little over a month, but I have already made some progress in my Gitarrelernen. I have already got "Blitzkrieg Bop" down pat although not up to tempo, while I've mastered a few riffs from The Temptations' "My Girl", Magic Wands' "Black Magic", and -- of course -- Deep Purple's "Smoke on the Water".
What does this have to do with books? Well, one, and this is a soft connection, I think Goodreads is equally about learning as it is about literature, since most people pursue reading in order to learn something. Even if it's just an escape into a fictitious world, a reader often finds that they learn a little about themselves through the novels they devour. And since I am learning guitar, I figured I'd share that tidbit.
Secondly, and this one is more fundamentally connected to books, I am writing a book where rock music plays a large role. This excursion into actually playing the guitar allows me a greater appreciation of the art form (really, my mind is blown by some songs now) while serving double duty as research for my writing. So, win-win all around.
And, in the end, yes, we did happen to find a family doctor and our blood pressure is fine.
I've Paid Some Dues, Getting Through Tangled Up in Blue.
October has come and gone. Soon, the snow will fall. I know -- depressing. I am trying desperately not to get the winter blues with the lack of sunlight and the biting cold creeping in.
No, I will remain excited. After all, the holidays are coming soon, full of jubilation and times spent with our loved ones.
And let's not let the spooktacular Halloween celebrations wear off too soon. After all, I did look like this:
Despite this ennui, I managed to keep reading. There's no time to spare if I ever hope to complete this challenge. This is what I mustered this month.
Book #31: A book with a blue cover
Don't think for a second I didn't consider rereading The Cat in the Hat .
For some unknown reason, I really struggled with this one. I could not find a book with a blue cover that I really wanted to read.
I thought I had finally come to a decision when I started reading The Light Between Oceans . Unfortunately, I was borrowing the book and had to return it before I had a chance to really get into it. I do intend to go back to it, but as for its fate to be the book with a blue cover? Sadly, not to be.
Which brings me to Neil.
Neil Pasricha has devoted many years and many pages to helping others find happiness. He is probably best known for his Book of Awesome , but now he is trying to approach happiness as an equation.
I have read The Book of Awesome, which, to me, is a coffee table book, not meant to be consumed all in one seating like a novel but rather perused to bring a little dose of joy into your life at regular intervals or when you need it the most.
I liked the approach of his new book, too, The Happiness Equation , with its scribbles and sketches. It was cute, more like a conversation with graphics drawn on a napkin to illustrate the point.
However, I would not find it to be the most mind-blowing of investigations. Most of what Neil points out is a retread. In fact, I would argue that a significant portion of this book is quoting others. Buddha said this. Newton said that. Richard Feynman points this out. Tom Hanks points that out. It's a game of he-said, she-said, at times, and that is a touch grating. I did like the anecdotes, but endlessly quoting others didn't really help me get anywhere. It just felt like padding.
The gist is as follows:
"Always remember there are only three goals. To want nothing. That's contentment. To do anything. That's freedom. To have everything. That's happiness. What are the nine secrets to get us there? Be happy first. Do it for you. Remember the lottery. Never retire. Overvalue you. Create space. Just do it. Be you. Don't take advice."
I find it rather hilarious that the last piece of advice in this book is to not take advice, but nonetheless, it is probably good advice at that.
The other lessons throughout the book are ones we already know. I think the most interesting was to "do it for you". We already know we should aim for self-fulfillment, but the controlled studies of different groups and how their performance is affected by outside motivators, like money or fame or what have you, is fascinating. That is probably my favourite part.
As a minimalist, I was already on board with the lesson advising us to "create space" by streamlining and automating those decisions that don't matter but take forever.
I'm also a big believer in "just do it" because the second-guessing is the killer. The cyclic nature of doing to create the self-confidence is obvious, but having it pointed out and illustrated is great. I appreciated that one a lot, too.
I suppose, by already being a fairly happy person, most of these lessons were already understood by me and that's why I didn't get quite so much out of the book. For someone who is looking to be perked up, this book is a great set of beginning resources, a course of action for you to follow, but, in the end, while I enjoyed reading it because of Pasricha's writing style, The Happiness Equation needed to dive a little deeper to discover a bit more.
Book #32: A book at least 100 years older than you
What can I say that hasn't been said? This play may be by Shakespeare and it may have that lovely turn of phrase, but if you're getting the message at all, you'll realize that it's a horribly sexist one about how women should be beaten into submission and basically sit underneath the boots of their husbands. Women are property to be owned and should be at their beck and call at any given moment.
I came to this play mostly because I knew it was the source material for the film Ten Things I Hate About You. I love that film, the way it plays the basic premise of this play for laughs, making Baptista, the father of two very different daughters, a doctor who delivers babies and can't bear the thought of finding his baby girl knocked up. As a result, he concocts a plan: his youngest daughter Bianca can date once her elder sister Kat does, and Kat couldn't give less of a hoot for the slobbering idiots surrounding her. Much better than the actual source material, this film has reasons and motivations for the women to act the way they do. Unlike Shakespeare, the screenwriters realized that women act not on whims but because of reasons and this film doesn't shy away from them. I can't believe I'm saying these words, but the film is better, you guys.
Anyway, the play left me feeling disgusted. I'm a feminist and a human being. This shit would not fly in today's society. Frankly, if this is what it was like to live in the 1590s, they can keep it.
In terms of October, that's all I managed to get through. Although I am in the midst of several books, those measly two are the only ones I finished in time for this blog. Next month, I'm hoping to be well on my way, completing a handful at least. That better not be wishful thinking on my part -- this year and thus this challenge has almost come to an end!
Until next month, happy reading!
No, I will remain excited. After all, the holidays are coming soon, full of jubilation and times spent with our loved ones.
And let's not let the spooktacular Halloween celebrations wear off too soon. After all, I did look like this:
Despite this ennui, I managed to keep reading. There's no time to spare if I ever hope to complete this challenge. This is what I mustered this month.
Book #31: A book with a blue cover
Don't think for a second I didn't consider rereading The Cat in the Hat .
For some unknown reason, I really struggled with this one. I could not find a book with a blue cover that I really wanted to read.
I thought I had finally come to a decision when I started reading The Light Between Oceans . Unfortunately, I was borrowing the book and had to return it before I had a chance to really get into it. I do intend to go back to it, but as for its fate to be the book with a blue cover? Sadly, not to be.
Which brings me to Neil.
Neil Pasricha has devoted many years and many pages to helping others find happiness. He is probably best known for his Book of Awesome , but now he is trying to approach happiness as an equation.
I have read The Book of Awesome, which, to me, is a coffee table book, not meant to be consumed all in one seating like a novel but rather perused to bring a little dose of joy into your life at regular intervals or when you need it the most.
I liked the approach of his new book, too, The Happiness Equation , with its scribbles and sketches. It was cute, more like a conversation with graphics drawn on a napkin to illustrate the point.
However, I would not find it to be the most mind-blowing of investigations. Most of what Neil points out is a retread. In fact, I would argue that a significant portion of this book is quoting others. Buddha said this. Newton said that. Richard Feynman points this out. Tom Hanks points that out. It's a game of he-said, she-said, at times, and that is a touch grating. I did like the anecdotes, but endlessly quoting others didn't really help me get anywhere. It just felt like padding.
The gist is as follows:
"Always remember there are only three goals. To want nothing. That's contentment. To do anything. That's freedom. To have everything. That's happiness. What are the nine secrets to get us there? Be happy first. Do it for you. Remember the lottery. Never retire. Overvalue you. Create space. Just do it. Be you. Don't take advice."
I find it rather hilarious that the last piece of advice in this book is to not take advice, but nonetheless, it is probably good advice at that.
The other lessons throughout the book are ones we already know. I think the most interesting was to "do it for you". We already know we should aim for self-fulfillment, but the controlled studies of different groups and how their performance is affected by outside motivators, like money or fame or what have you, is fascinating. That is probably my favourite part.
As a minimalist, I was already on board with the lesson advising us to "create space" by streamlining and automating those decisions that don't matter but take forever.
I'm also a big believer in "just do it" because the second-guessing is the killer. The cyclic nature of doing to create the self-confidence is obvious, but having it pointed out and illustrated is great. I appreciated that one a lot, too.
I suppose, by already being a fairly happy person, most of these lessons were already understood by me and that's why I didn't get quite so much out of the book. For someone who is looking to be perked up, this book is a great set of beginning resources, a course of action for you to follow, but, in the end, while I enjoyed reading it because of Pasricha's writing style, The Happiness Equation needed to dive a little deeper to discover a bit more.
Book #32: A book at least 100 years older than you
What can I say that hasn't been said? This play may be by Shakespeare and it may have that lovely turn of phrase, but if you're getting the message at all, you'll realize that it's a horribly sexist one about how women should be beaten into submission and basically sit underneath the boots of their husbands. Women are property to be owned and should be at their beck and call at any given moment.
I came to this play mostly because I knew it was the source material for the film Ten Things I Hate About You. I love that film, the way it plays the basic premise of this play for laughs, making Baptista, the father of two very different daughters, a doctor who delivers babies and can't bear the thought of finding his baby girl knocked up. As a result, he concocts a plan: his youngest daughter Bianca can date once her elder sister Kat does, and Kat couldn't give less of a hoot for the slobbering idiots surrounding her. Much better than the actual source material, this film has reasons and motivations for the women to act the way they do. Unlike Shakespeare, the screenwriters realized that women act not on whims but because of reasons and this film doesn't shy away from them. I can't believe I'm saying these words, but the film is better, you guys.
Anyway, the play left me feeling disgusted. I'm a feminist and a human being. This shit would not fly in today's society. Frankly, if this is what it was like to live in the 1590s, they can keep it.
In terms of October, that's all I managed to get through. Although I am in the midst of several books, those measly two are the only ones I finished in time for this blog. Next month, I'm hoping to be well on my way, completing a handful at least. That better not be wishful thinking on my part -- this year and thus this challenge has almost come to an end!
Until next month, happy reading!
Might be over now, but I feel it still.
Dearest readers,
There's nothing like an automobile accident to pull things back into perspective for you.
When I ended up injured from the impact, I struggled with frustration about not being able to do basic things, like feeding myself or getting dressed. Forced to be dependent on others for weeks (and I am still in the process of recovery, so I'm still relying dearly upon their kindness), I was forced to reevaluate what's important. I push myself hard a lot of the time, so I've come to the realization that, oftentimes, the effort is just as important as the result.
Let's take another look at those resolutions.
Resolution #1: Reach 65% fluency in French, Spanish, German, Italian, and Russian
I fluctuated wildly with this goal, almost meeting that milestone and then dropping precipitously, only to work my way back to it. Along the way, I also picked up an interest in Japanese, which I never expected to happen. I know some Arabic, too, which wasn't on the radar. I haven't given up on this goal and will continue to work towards it in 2018, but I've decided not to be so hard on myself for any discrepancies. I look around at the political climate where people make no effort to bridge the gap between themselves and those they deem "foreigners" and the xenophobia sickens me. The fact that I'm trying to speak someone else's language is something I should feel is deserving of a miniature internal high-five in and of itself. Because I really am trying and sometimes -- sometimes -- that is enough.
Resolution #2: Raise guitar proficiency on Tom Petty's "American Girl" by at least 25%
I couldn't put my own clothes on. It made me feel as if mastering that final riff wasn't all that important. I'm never going to be Stevie Nicks, so I've decided to hang up my delusional thinking and retire to the mere fun zone. That's right. Playing guitar for me is recreational and shouldn't be something I'm pushing myself to ridiculous lengths as if my life depends on it. My life doesn't. It's not a career. I'm an amateur who has only had a guitar for two seconds, relatively speaking. And I don't really care anymore whether I sound all that great. And I know that sounds like apathy, but it's very much the opposite. I don't care about sounding great. I care about having fun and embrace the fun of the guitar. And the more I feel this way, the more I cannot wait to get back in the physical shape necessary to play again.
Resolution #3: Clear my backlog of unwatched films and TV boxsets
This is an impossible task. I have chipped away, but I don't think I will ever really be done. I replenish my stock too readily to ever run out. That being said, I finished Veronica Mars, which has been a long time coming. We won't go into all the feelings I felt watching that finale. Suffice it to say, I'm glad the film rectified the situation.
In addition, I watched my Blu-ray of The Lion King, arguably my favourite Disney film; finished the sixth and final season of Girls; and continued grinding away at the fourth season of Cheers.
But, in the same time, I purchased Patch Adams, two seasons of The Middle, three seasons of American Horror Story, and the complete Mary Tyler Moore Show. I was also gifted Hacksaw Ridge. And I buried my nose in Netflix, watching Thirteen Reasons Why, GLOW, Stranger Things, The Crown, and oh-so-many stand-up comedy specials.
And that's fine. I like films and I like television, so it's normal to expect that I would do such a thing. And the fact that I have tons more to watch just means a recipe for some cuddly and fun nights in watching this or that with my loved ones. I couldn't be happier at the prospect of it, so why deny myself that?
In fact, this resolution is not only ludicrous in its unrealistic sense of plausibility but equally so in that its achievement would probably bring me unhappiness. Why would I resolve to do that?
Resolution #4: The 2017 Super-Mega-Ultra-Neo-Maxi-Zoom-Dweebie Chelsey Cosh Reading Challenge™!
Reading is very fun for me. I love learning about new books, reading them, and discussing them ad nauseum.
I happened to read Big Little Lies in the last few weeks of March because I wanted to, not because it was part of this challenge I had committed myself to. As it happens, the book was set in Australia, so it did actually cross off a prompt on my challenge, but I didn't know that. No, I read the book simply because I wanted to. Reading challenge be damned. That was my attitude.
And I freaking loved Big Little Lies. When I wasn't tied to this challenge, constantly trying to get ahead of it, I opted to read books for the heck of it and was so much happier for it.
Now, I do understand the purpose of reading challenges. They force people to look outside of what they normally read, venturing into the unfamiliar to see if there is something they might like. It gets you out of ruts. And, for some, it encourages you to read a book for the first time in an eternity.
But I don't need to be pushed to look for something new. And I certainly don't need to be pushed to read. I love reading. I have always loved reading.
So, while I may not have read a book about a mother-son relationship or a book about a murder, I did read a banned book, a book written by a woman of colour, and a book with a transgender protagonist -- all because I wanted to read them. Not once did I think, "Ooh, I can check this off the list." No, I read them purely because I was dying to see what happens.
That is the beauty of literature. It encourages the curiosity, that yearning to learn more, and allows transportation to an entirely different realm as long as your imagination can take you there. When that magic floats me off wide-eyed on a cloud of my own thoughts, I will be sure to update you on that ineffable thing we all share. Yes, I know we share it. One day, I hope my writing offers that gift to someone. Because that gift is priceless. By virtue of its wonder, I will never be able to articulate that special quality, but I know I'm not alone in this feeling.
And I can assure you that I will continue recommending novels, films, music, and television shows to anyone who will listen and, I'm sure, express my disgust for those pieces of art that rub me the wrong way in what can only be described as a total bitchfest. (To paraphrase what Olympia Dukakis once said, "If you don't have anything nice to say, come sit by me.")
And, yes, while I did not meet any of my goals set by these particular set of resolutions that I set for 2017, I did learn a lot and I think that is probably more important than the arbitrary finish line I established on a whim.
Here's to all of you readers out there. I wish you a wonderful 2018, sparkly and new with all the promise that holds.
Stay warm, safe, and merry.
There's nothing like an automobile accident to pull things back into perspective for you.
When I ended up injured from the impact, I struggled with frustration about not being able to do basic things, like feeding myself or getting dressed. Forced to be dependent on others for weeks (and I am still in the process of recovery, so I'm still relying dearly upon their kindness), I was forced to reevaluate what's important. I push myself hard a lot of the time, so I've come to the realization that, oftentimes, the effort is just as important as the result.
Let's take another look at those resolutions.
Resolution #1: Reach 65% fluency in French, Spanish, German, Italian, and Russian
I fluctuated wildly with this goal, almost meeting that milestone and then dropping precipitously, only to work my way back to it. Along the way, I also picked up an interest in Japanese, which I never expected to happen. I know some Arabic, too, which wasn't on the radar. I haven't given up on this goal and will continue to work towards it in 2018, but I've decided not to be so hard on myself for any discrepancies. I look around at the political climate where people make no effort to bridge the gap between themselves and those they deem "foreigners" and the xenophobia sickens me. The fact that I'm trying to speak someone else's language is something I should feel is deserving of a miniature internal high-five in and of itself. Because I really am trying and sometimes -- sometimes -- that is enough.
Resolution #2: Raise guitar proficiency on Tom Petty's "American Girl" by at least 25%
I couldn't put my own clothes on. It made me feel as if mastering that final riff wasn't all that important. I'm never going to be Stevie Nicks, so I've decided to hang up my delusional thinking and retire to the mere fun zone. That's right. Playing guitar for me is recreational and shouldn't be something I'm pushing myself to ridiculous lengths as if my life depends on it. My life doesn't. It's not a career. I'm an amateur who has only had a guitar for two seconds, relatively speaking. And I don't really care anymore whether I sound all that great. And I know that sounds like apathy, but it's very much the opposite. I don't care about sounding great. I care about having fun and embrace the fun of the guitar. And the more I feel this way, the more I cannot wait to get back in the physical shape necessary to play again.
Resolution #3: Clear my backlog of unwatched films and TV boxsets
This is an impossible task. I have chipped away, but I don't think I will ever really be done. I replenish my stock too readily to ever run out. That being said, I finished Veronica Mars, which has been a long time coming. We won't go into all the feelings I felt watching that finale. Suffice it to say, I'm glad the film rectified the situation.
In addition, I watched my Blu-ray of The Lion King, arguably my favourite Disney film; finished the sixth and final season of Girls; and continued grinding away at the fourth season of Cheers.
But, in the same time, I purchased Patch Adams, two seasons of The Middle, three seasons of American Horror Story, and the complete Mary Tyler Moore Show. I was also gifted Hacksaw Ridge. And I buried my nose in Netflix, watching Thirteen Reasons Why, GLOW, Stranger Things, The Crown, and oh-so-many stand-up comedy specials.
And that's fine. I like films and I like television, so it's normal to expect that I would do such a thing. And the fact that I have tons more to watch just means a recipe for some cuddly and fun nights in watching this or that with my loved ones. I couldn't be happier at the prospect of it, so why deny myself that?
In fact, this resolution is not only ludicrous in its unrealistic sense of plausibility but equally so in that its achievement would probably bring me unhappiness. Why would I resolve to do that?
Resolution #4: The 2017 Super-Mega-Ultra-Neo-Maxi-Zoom-Dweebie Chelsey Cosh Reading Challenge™!
Reading is very fun for me. I love learning about new books, reading them, and discussing them ad nauseum.
I happened to read Big Little Lies in the last few weeks of March because I wanted to, not because it was part of this challenge I had committed myself to. As it happens, the book was set in Australia, so it did actually cross off a prompt on my challenge, but I didn't know that. No, I read the book simply because I wanted to. Reading challenge be damned. That was my attitude.
And I freaking loved Big Little Lies. When I wasn't tied to this challenge, constantly trying to get ahead of it, I opted to read books for the heck of it and was so much happier for it.
Now, I do understand the purpose of reading challenges. They force people to look outside of what they normally read, venturing into the unfamiliar to see if there is something they might like. It gets you out of ruts. And, for some, it encourages you to read a book for the first time in an eternity.
But I don't need to be pushed to look for something new. And I certainly don't need to be pushed to read. I love reading. I have always loved reading.
So, while I may not have read a book about a mother-son relationship or a book about a murder, I did read a banned book, a book written by a woman of colour, and a book with a transgender protagonist -- all because I wanted to read them. Not once did I think, "Ooh, I can check this off the list." No, I read them purely because I was dying to see what happens.
That is the beauty of literature. It encourages the curiosity, that yearning to learn more, and allows transportation to an entirely different realm as long as your imagination can take you there. When that magic floats me off wide-eyed on a cloud of my own thoughts, I will be sure to update you on that ineffable thing we all share. Yes, I know we share it. One day, I hope my writing offers that gift to someone. Because that gift is priceless. By virtue of its wonder, I will never be able to articulate that special quality, but I know I'm not alone in this feeling.
And I can assure you that I will continue recommending novels, films, music, and television shows to anyone who will listen and, I'm sure, express my disgust for those pieces of art that rub me the wrong way in what can only be described as a total bitchfest. (To paraphrase what Olympia Dukakis once said, "If you don't have anything nice to say, come sit by me.")
And, yes, while I did not meet any of my goals set by these particular set of resolutions that I set for 2017, I did learn a lot and I think that is probably more important than the arbitrary finish line I established on a whim.
Here's to all of you readers out there. I wish you a wonderful 2018, sparkly and new with all the promise that holds.
Stay warm, safe, and merry.
