There is a mind-set that wants to take away all pleasure, to quench every spark of light, to destroy everything that is good and leave no hope. We can see that rearing it's ugly head - again - in our own culture right now. Every bit of good that we can find is a way of fighting back against that, keeping the flood from overwhelming our souls. And cosy stories are a reminder that there is still good, and that it's worth keeping.
It is the light that lets you see. Darkness only obscures. I tend to be of the chiaroscuro school of writing. Deep darks, bright lights, and everything in between. Because whimsy and coziness and quiet wonder let you catch your breath and ground yourself after a moment of true brilliant glory. And lift your head back up after a moment of sheer crushing darkness. The largest range of the palate is in the middle.
I've got a wife wandering about the property that, over the years collected/read some 20 plus running feet of mysteries (I just measured the bookshelves there upon, mostly pocketbooks but yes, well over 20 feet of them.) and I'd guess at least a third of them are cosies. I've tended to buy sci fi but Alaska, long winter nights , read many if not most of her, including the cosies , mysteries as well.
Yea, yea, yea, I like my space operas overflowing with sexual innuendo and gratuitous violence just as much as the next guy but I gotta admit sitting off in the cosy corner as well is a pleasure. ;-)
Makes me think of a tea cosy with a coaster and their intended purpose. You don't often see them anymore since the invention of the tea bag. When you do, it's cosy. Cosy is a great find in 2026.
"Never trust a man who, when left alone in a room with a tea cosy, does not try it on." - Billy Connolly
It is easy to forget that a cosy life is possible because someone (often someone else) deals with the threats that would otherwise threaten it. I do so most of the time.
"'Strider' I am to one fat man who lives within a day's march of foes that would freeze his heart, or lay his little town in ruin, if he were not guarded ceaselessly. Yet we would not have it otherwise. If simple folk are free from care and fear, simple they will be, and we must be secret to keep them so."
There is value in both a life of peace because others deal with the conflict, and a life of conflict so that others can live in peace, and so stories of both have their place and have value. The former, though, cannot exist without the latter.
There is a mind-set that wants to take away all pleasure, to quench every spark of light, to destroy everything that is good and leave no hope. We can see that rearing it's ugly head - again - in our own culture right now. Every bit of good that we can find is a way of fighting back against that, keeping the flood from overwhelming our souls. And cosy stories are a reminder that there is still good, and that it's worth keeping.
It is the light that lets you see. Darkness only obscures. I tend to be of the chiaroscuro school of writing. Deep darks, bright lights, and everything in between. Because whimsy and coziness and quiet wonder let you catch your breath and ground yourself after a moment of true brilliant glory. And lift your head back up after a moment of sheer crushing darkness. The largest range of the palate is in the middle.
I love the attitude of the closing pic. :)
She is left handed, has that Sinister Dexter, Pulp Fiction look to her.
I've got a wife wandering about the property that, over the years collected/read some 20 plus running feet of mysteries (I just measured the bookshelves there upon, mostly pocketbooks but yes, well over 20 feet of them.) and I'd guess at least a third of them are cosies. I've tended to buy sci fi but Alaska, long winter nights , read many if not most of her, including the cosies , mysteries as well.
Yea, yea, yea, I like my space operas overflowing with sexual innuendo and gratuitous violence just as much as the next guy but I gotta admit sitting off in the cosy corner as well is a pleasure. ;-)
Makes me think of a tea cosy with a coaster and their intended purpose. You don't often see them anymore since the invention of the tea bag. When you do, it's cosy. Cosy is a great find in 2026.
"Never trust a man who, when left alone in a room with a tea cosy, does not try it on." - Billy Connolly
It is easy to forget that a cosy life is possible because someone (often someone else) deals with the threats that would otherwise threaten it. I do so most of the time.
"'Strider' I am to one fat man who lives within a day's march of foes that would freeze his heart, or lay his little town in ruin, if he were not guarded ceaselessly. Yet we would not have it otherwise. If simple folk are free from care and fear, simple they will be, and we must be secret to keep them so."
There is value in both a life of peace because others deal with the conflict, and a life of conflict so that others can live in peace, and so stories of both have their place and have value. The former, though, cannot exist without the latter.
They don't appreciate the grim inexorable horror that is entropy: All things end and burn to dust.
Nor the heroic, determination it takes to build a wall against it, and carve out an island of life.
You write the best cozies hands down.
I had to stop by and cheer for cozy. And thanks for the reminder about Mrs. Pollifax. She's fun.
All well and good -- I particularly like your image of a bookstore with a body "inconveniently" lying on the shop floor -- but... cardamom? In bread?
Yes! It's traditional in Scandinavian holiday breads. I like to use cardamom when I want a perception of sweetness greater than actual sugar content.
I think you have posted a bread or a roll recipe with cardamom at least once.