"January is a tundra of the calendar and the mind. It has at least 31,000 days. The holidays are over: no more tinsel or jolliness or frenetic spending. The month arrives blank and forlorn. Other than some bank holidays and Sunday-night football, it's largely unpopulated with events and frozen over with difficulty. Winter plunges to its deepest cold in January, and the season is only starting. So why am I a fan?"
"January throws down its first gauntlet with weather. You need to fill the calendar with reasons to live again-but first you have to prepare. It starts at home. You break out the boot tray and the draft snakes, those skinny pillows that line doorways. Refill the salt buckets. If your windows leak heat, seal them with plastic wrap and a hairdryer."
January arrives as a blank, cold stretch after holiday bustle, producing a slowed sense of time amid deep winter. The month lacks events aside from a few holidays and football, and that scarcity creates room for deliberate pacing. Severe weather forces practical preparations at home, including boot trays, draft snakes, salt buckets, and window sealing, along with clothing shifts toward mittens and insulating fabrics. The demanding season transforms daily life into a mode of occupation, prompting adaptation through small, steady domestic rituals and intentional efforts to endure and find purpose during the coldest days.
Read at Slate Magazine
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