There is a definite chill in the air these days. We used to stumble bleary-eyed and half asleep to the bathroom to make wudhu for Fajr, but are starting to brace ourselves mentally every morning now, just so the cold floor doesn’t rudely shock us out of our stupor. It feels like we are rushing a great deal more, trying to do more… trying to finish all we can before sunset, which is eating into our days earlier than we are used to.

Winter in Islamabad is many things to me…

It is a time when we draw closer as a family. We try to conserve energy by turning on as few heaters as we possibly can and end up congregating in the same room for hours on end. We do our studies, work, crafts and reading huddled around the heater. Chores are rushed through so we can go back to the warmth. What ensues is often a great deal of clutter, but we bear with it because this is just how winter is in our small place.

It is steaming pots of tea. We have been sampling raspberry, blackcurrant, jasmine and Moroccan mint, but nothing beats good old fashioned chai. My mother-in-law makes the best Kashmiri (pink) tea — she would simmer the leaves for hours to get a thick deep purple brew which would turn a delightful shade of rose with milk. Delicately flavoured with cardamom and crushed pistachios, it is really class in a cup.

It is huddling under layers of quilts reading books together. We’ve read a huge assortment of chapter books in this snuggly way. Past winters’ notable reads include Harper Lee’s To Kill A Mockingbird, The Watsons Go To Birmingham – 1963 by Christopher Paul Curtis, Marita Conlon-McKenna’s Children of the Famine trilogy, Stories of the of the Prophets and the Seerah of the Prophet sallallaahu ‘alayhi wa sallam. I think sometimes the girls learn more and best in this way — when we leave out the pencils and paper and simply reflect and discuss.

It is delicious, hearty soups that are lovingly prepared. The girls love Lamya’s Soup, which takes a great deal of preparation but is totally worth the effort. As we enjoy the kitchen’s toasty comfort, we become more mindful about how blessed we really are. We realise that we can never thank Allah enough.

It is blissfully running out to the terrace for little picnics and play when the sun shines. The warm hours are short so we must act fast. My children love the novelty of studying and lunching outdoors. The crows that frequent the fig and jaman trees in our yard hover close, hoping that we will leave them some morsels. We do, but they only swoop down and take them when the air starts to bite and we return indoors to the warmth of our blankets and more of each other’s company.

I have amassed a mother lode of embroidery patterns and am missing the feel of needle, thread and calico between my fingers. Peep’s been quite the little rascal though, so I haven’t able to get back to stitching. The girls, on the other hand, have been quite productive, ma shaa Allah.

Marz went through a bit of a confidence crisis and was convinced that she would never amount to much in the crafty department. After much discussion, we agreed that creativity can be cultivated and that everyone has a bit of artistry in some form or another. We just need to be supremely patient and determined to hone the skills. With renewed enthusiasm, Marz has made a bigger effort to be more precise and exacting. Effort and creative process are just as important as the final product, so she is learning to find joy in the journey as well.

Marz made a quilted mug rug. She chose two of her favourite fabrics from our stash and hand-pieced them together before sandwiching the batting in between and hand-quilting the whole thing. She hopes to use the sewing machine the next time in shaa Allah for a neater finish, but I think this was a terrific effort ma shaa Allah. The mug rug has since been gifted to a a friend of hers — a mum new to homeschooling.

Bear made a little heart-shaped cushion for an aunt who is expecting a baby girl. This was her first major project. She was so thrilled when she completed it. “I can’t believe I finished it!” She is so in love with it that she is almost tempted to keep it for herself ;)

Peep wants to play even though he has the sniffles; Bear is pressing me to draw a heart-shape so she can make her own cushion (“It will be bigger, in shaa Allah!”) and Marz seems to be hinting that she wants me to cook bhunna ghosht … I guess embroidery will have to wait…

On the way to The Hidden Playground…

My rowdy ruffians, bless them, love playing together. They especially like the outdoors and can spend hours in the garden, climbing the fig tree and checking on the plants and insects. They have a few favourite haunts out of home, one of which is a lovely place they call “The Hidden Playground”. Nestled in a quiet residential area, it seems almost mysterious. This park is very well-maintained – the gardener seems to have taken pains to keep it clean (trust me, no mean feat in this country!) and also to retain its woodsy charm.

Some adults meet there in the evenings to rest and talk after a long day or simply to imbibe the peace and tranquility, but it is otherwise hardly frequented by others, at least not on weekdays. Many might not find it anything special – it is rather old-school as far as playgrounds go. There are two swings, a simple climbing facility and a cement slide so old it is worn smooth. It is a spacious place with a slope to race up and down and two little gazebos for shade. Nothing out of the ordinary, you might say. However, its appeal, I believe, lies in its simplicity. My girls find The Hidden Playground a place of promise – where they can dream up ideas and adventures. This secret hideaway is where they can cavort and frolic to their hearts’ content.

There are bushes and hedges that border the upper slopes of the park and at the far end is the kids’ favourite spot. There is a cavity in the hedge, just small enough for a child to crawl into. At the base of this little hole are two strong branches that have grown horizontally, just above the ground. This is a perfect hiding spot! A child can squeeze into the ‘cave’ and crouch on these branches and remain concealed. They will be covered by the leaves and their feet will be raised off the ground and unseen. They played hide-and-seek with The Dad Man and giggled gleefully when they took him completely by surprise.

My kids do have some toys, but they seem to have the most fun when they make their own or use un-toys (more on this later in shaa Allah) and when they don’t use any props at all, except for their own imagination. I posted three articles from National Public Radio some time ago and these gave me a deeper appreciation for children and improvised play. If you are interested, you can read them here: Old Fashioned Play Builds Serious Skills, The Evolution of Play and The Best Kinds of Play.

It is wonderful watching the kids play sometimes – as they interact with each other, create their own rules and make their own decisions, I see how they are, in fact, practising at their adult roles and I cannot help but wonder what they will become, with the permission and help of Allah.

I love this part of the park – this tree bordered by the rocks looks so very pretty with the wooden bench close by.

It has been a while since I stepped out with them to the park. There has been so much to do lately but in shaa Allah I think I will try to take some time off with them this weekend.

I think we need some Hidden Playground magic… :)

The rowdy ruffians are positively addicted to cooking these days. It is true that the stove gives comforting warmth that my tropical offspring miss. However, they also enjoy the process itself and it pleases them to no end to see others appreciating their concoctions. The other day, Bear made applesauce and Mars prepared her specialty – omelette with homegrown garlic sprouts – for a guest’s breakfast.

I remember one of the girls’ early culinary attempts. They decided, one day, to make their own lunch and conspired gleefully in the kitchen. They later invited me to sample their meal – I’d thought it was something elaborate or out of the ordinary considering their blissful expressions, but I was mistaken. It turned out to be a simple dish of boiled potatoes seasoned with butter, salt and pepper. :) It was delicious though – one of those things that just hit the spot, you know? – and quite healthful and it made me realise that I had a lot to learn from my children. One of the most important things that they have taught me is to find joy and contentment in the littlest things. Indeed, when it comes to food, frugal and easy need not mean compromising on flavour or quality.

I’ve been inspired by Kate’s blog (she has tips on frugal living and back-to-basic meals), discussions with my friend Tea (you guys MUST pester her to blog about the amazing things she has learnt about healthful eating!) and meals my friend Umm Aymun prepares (she makes the simplest things so mouthwatering that it is amazing, I kid you not! These Urdu-speaking folk have close to magical talents!). We’ve made a conscious effort to eat more home cooked meals and to use more organic foods. We are fortunate in this respect – raw milk, pure butter/ghee, free range eggs and organic meats and produce are more easily available and affordable here than in my home country.

We have been enjoying making hearty meals that require minimal ingredients and preparation. I’m not against elaborate meals – it is a blessing to present the best to your family and guests – but it simply is not something sustainable or even necessary on a daily basis. Eating simply can mean savings that can be used for more useful things and charity. It also inculcates self-restraint – all too often, we indulge our nafs and throw moderation to the wind. We would do well to be the sort of people who can make do, people who know the difference between “needs” and “wants”. The Prophet sallallahu `alayhi wa sallam said, “A human being has not filled any vessel which is worse than a belly. Enough for the son of Adam are some mouthfuls that can keep his back straight, but if there is no escape, he should fill it a third with food, a third with drink and a third empty.” [at-Tirmidhi]

For us, easy meals allow us all to be involved in the preparation. The girls feel a great sense of participation and achievement. What is more, not slaving over the stove means that we have more time for reading, crafting and of course, worship. I’ve begun a little notebook of easy-peasy recipes for the girls that I’ve stuck onto the refridgerator door – they can refer to it any time they feel like cooking in shaa Allah.

We’ve been having lots of fruit and vegetables. Pomegranates are a favourite – they are so gorgeous truly! Lunches are often our version of Subs – sandwiches of lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, capsicum and cottage cheese with little dollops of mayo and mustard – they are so appetizing ma shaa Allah. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, nothing beats the taste of produce here – they are so fresh and the flavours just burst in your mouth.

Here are some other dishes we’ve been doing recently…

We revisited Mars’ baked pasta… this time with minced beef … with only five ingredients and 3 pairs of hands working on it, it took less than half and hour to make…

… made a 20-minute curry… one of those chuck-everything-in-the-pot-and-let-it-stew dishes this haphazard housewife likes…

… a variation of my children’s potato dish … boiled potatoes cooked with onions, garlic and minced chicken, seasoned with salt and pepper. I used the kids’ homegrown garlic sprouts to garnish and they were delighted! Another 20-minute dish that was much appreciated, alhamdulillah…

… we have cut down on fried foods so these are becoming a rarity (honest, Tea!)… I made my version of pakoras as we had left-over bread and crusts. I just chucked them all in a bowl with flour, eggs, onions, coriander and spring onion greens and spices and fried the crazy mix up :)

It will be a busy week – the kids have to hit the books and I have to tidy our living area once again – a mammoth task, believe you me! I hope it also means another week of simple pleasures… in shaa Allah :)

I was born and bred in Singapore and I am pretty much a tropical weather sort of person. I like bright sunny days, balmy breezes and the occasional rain. I am accustomed to comfortable, light clothing and being able to eat ice-cream any time I want.

When I was growing up as a child, I was curious about other seasons, particularly winter. I’d seen pictures and movies showing how beautiful – and fun! – snow can be, so I was quite pleased when I finally had my chance to experience it for myself. I moved to the USA shortly after my wedding with my husband, who was completing his studies. I remember it was early January when we landed in Chicago in 2001. My brother-in-law was there to meet us and his first words to me were, “As salaamu `alaykum … Welcome to America.” He then promptly handed his brother and me mufflers to wear. I thought then, how odd of him, but within minutes, I could feel the wind, so cold that it felt like angry little pin pricks all over my skin. Needless to say, I felt a great deal of trepidation.

Before driving to Indiana, where we were staying, my husband thought it would be nice for me to take a look-see around Chicago. Now, the only images I’d had of winter in the US were of the freshly fallen variety… of breathtaking landscapes and of children delighted at play. Let’s just say that Chicago cured me of my fanciful notions :P That day, I saw only grey sludge and people looking miserable as walked briskly, hands in pockets, trying to stay warm. Still, winter in the US was rather easy to bear on the whole – there was central heating after all… and I did get my fill of pretty winter scenes later on when we moved to Wisconsin :) Nevertheless, I would ALWAYS rejoice when warmer weather beckoned.

When we moved to Pakistan, my hatred for winter reached its peak. It had partly to do with difficulties in leaving my own home country. I would grumble about all the layers of clothes we had to wear and wash (there isn’t central heating here), the dull and dreary days punctuated by heavy rains (forget freshly driven snow!), the mess of blankets and duvets and what not and just the general discomfort that the cold brought.

I’ve begun to soften my stance towards winter though – I admit, I can be a stubborn wretch :) It’s peevish and petty to rail against change and to complain about how painful the cold is when I have a more than adequate roof over my head. Others have not and even have to brave the elements to eke out a living. This dry country which is very much dependent on its agriculture also needs the winter rains.

“And We send down from the sky rain charted with blessing, and We produce therewith gardens and grain for harvests…” (Surah Qaf 50:9)

I’ve begun to appreciate so much about this season and the blessings it brings. My daughters and I did a lovely lesson about how the Salaf viewed winter. We were were bundled up under our blankets after Fajr that day :) It gave us a totally new attitude towards winter alhamdulillah. (You can read the article here.)

Al-Hassan Al-Basri for example said: “How good winter is for the believer! Its night is long, so he prays in it; and its day is short, so he observes fasting in it.” Indeed, the the Prophet sallallahu `alayhi wa sallam said: “The cold booty is observing fast in winter.” (at-Tirmidhi) How easy it is to fast in winters because we don’t feel the thirst and lethargy of the hot summers.

I love Ibn Rajab’s words about winter – “Winter is considered the spring of the believer, because he revels in the orchards of obedience and goes in the fields of worship and his heart having the pleasure of strolling in the gardens of deeds which are easy during winter.”

I’m going to brew myself a cup of tea and sit by the window now to stitch. I’ll probably put on a lecture to listen to and get some soul food, in shaa Allah. It is cold, but the sky is clear … alhamdulillah. For all my friends out there experiencing winter, I hope you are enjoying it in all its goodness :)

(Image from Pexels)