Hibernation Notes

Gentle suggestions for snow days, boredom, and quiet stretches of time spent alone

So, I’ve been snowed in here in Texas, and—well—it’s been pretty interesting. There’s no real infrastructure for snow, so the roads aren’t safe, businesses are closed, and everyone is just… inside.

Being the recluse that I naturally am, I’ve quite enjoyed being home with myself. But as we move into day six, I can feel myself getting a little stir crazy which perhaps benefits you, my audience, because I’ve been compelled to write.

So, what does one do to sustain herself for a week tucked away inside? Below is how I’ve managed to occupy myself, and I’m sharing it in hopes that you’ll revisit this list during your own moments of solitude, boredom, or snow days.

I’ve spent most of the time just… well… just thinking. About:

• Whether the internet is helping or harming us all

• The type of woman I am versus the type of woman I’d like to be, and how to bridge that gap

• Summertime

• Land, gardening, and what it really means, and feels like to eat what you grow and tend to yourself

• How to make and spend money in more ethical ways

• My relationship to America, capitalism, war, and everything in between

What I Ate:

Seeing as how I gravely underestimated just how long I’d be stuck inside, I ate all of my snacks by day two. This meant I found myself in the kitchen cooking, which I normally love to do….but for some reason, it feels like a huge part of hibernation is doing a lot of nothing. And cooking usually involves a lot of something.

So, I’ve been making the most low-maintenance things possible

A lot of that has included the original bitchin sauce. It’s been years since I’ve had it, but it begged to be included in the snow-snacks Sprouts run, and I’m better for it. I’ve used it on:

• An egg and vegan cheese sandwich on sourdough

• As a carrot dip

• As a tortilla dip

• With a bowl of rice and beans

• On toast

Of course, I’ve eaten it all by now.

Not my best staging or photography work, but I felt like some sort of visual was better than none.

I made an extremely large pot of what I like to call no-name soup. I’m going to attempt to offer a loose recipe, because it honestly doesn’t have one of those either. It’s a medley of leftovers and overlooked food items that you simmer together with spices of your own choosing. It ends up rich in flavor, warming, grounding, and filling. Honestly, it’s perfect for a snow day.

Ingredients:

• Miso paste (about ¼ cup)

• Leftover wild rice (about 2½ cups)

• ½ onion (whatever you have on hand works—I used yellow)

• 5 cloves garlic, minced

• 1-inch piece fresh ginger, finely chopped

• Carrots (your discretion)

• 2 celery stalks

• One large sweet potato

• Spinach

• 4 sprigs thyme

• 2 bay leaves

• Paprika (about 1 tsp)

• Salt (to taste, start with 1 tsp)

• Oregano (about 1 tsp)

• Black pepper (½–1 tsp)

• Turmeric (1 tsp)

• Cumin (½–1 tsp)

• Plant-based milk (I used flax milk). Start with ¼ cup and add sparingly until it’s the color and texture you want

• 2 tablespoons agave

• 2 tablespoons Bragg apple cider vinegar

Slice and dice the ginger, onion, and garlic, and sauté them in olive oil or ghee until fragrant and softened.
Add the spices and stir well, letting them bloom for about a minute.
Once everything is cooked down, add the miso paste and cook on low for another minute, stirring constantly.
Add the rice (you can also use white or brown rice, pasta, or quinoa here), followed by the vegetables.
Cover with water or broth and simmer for about an hour.
Taste often, adjusting seasoning as needed.

What I watched

I’m not a big TV watcher, but I was in a western mood, so I started with Legends of the Fall. Until four days ago, I had never even heard of the film, and now I’m completely enamored. The costumes, the cinematography, the melodrama—but mostly Brad Pitt as Tristan: troubled, noble, brave, cowboy. What a character.

Since I had already taken the dive into western land, I figured I’d keep it going and finally start Yellowstone. If you’re wondering how I liked it… I finished season one in two days.

How I moved

I have managed to move my body a bit.
I’m grateful for these Hunter boots, which led me on a few snowy walks around the neighborhood. Even though the air is cold and crisp, it’s refreshing to feel the wind on my cheeks and let the sun squint my eyes.

I’ve danced to this playlist a few times.

And I’ve done some fascia release with my internet friend Kara Duval through her platform, Range.

Most Importantly

A good portion of my time has also been spent off social media. I’ve felt overwhelmed by the coverage surrounding ICE and the many tragedies unfolding because of it. My personal—and very unsolicited—opinion is that we need to find other media outlets beyond social platforms: essays, podcasts, books. Remember real journalism? The thing that existed before meme sharing took its place.

I’ve been researching what revolutionary and supportive actions can be taken that hold more weight than reposting and resharing. At some point, I’ll attempt to create a post or resource to share with you. But for now, here’s what I’ve been reading and listening to:

• Vogue: https://www.vogue.com/article/moms-organizing-against-ice-in-their-group-chats

• The Cut: https://nymag.com/intelligencer/article/ice-shooting-trump-allies-alex-pretti.html

• The Cut: https://nymag.com/intelligencer/article/republicans-beg-trump-to-curb-ice-and-avert-shutdown.html

• This podcast:

And of course, I’ve been working. Because although the outside world may be closed, the internet is always open. Always. And because I find my work deeply satiating, I have no qualms about it.

I’ve been making herbal medicine and speaking with new clients, finding ways to support their wellness journeys. If you’re interested in deepening your own wellness practices or would like support with any aches, pains, or ongoing ailments, I’d love to chat. You can find time with me through my calendar.

Being snowed in has reminded me that stillness isn’t empty, it’s fertile. It gives shape to thought, space to listen, and time to tend to what often gets rushed past.

If you find yourself in a quiet stretch soon, by weather or by choice, I hope this meets you there. Save it, return to it, and let it accompany you the next time the world slows down.