O Lord, You remember when I couldn’t wait for my March birthday. January slogged along like, well, molasses in January. But February was short! Except during Leap Year, I had to wait a whole extra day.
Now, OMG, I see Leap Day as Your gift. BTW, couldn’t You add a few extra days … weeks … months before I turn another year older?
When Midwestern citizens select their favorite month, February
is among the first voted off the calendar. Even 2020’s relatively civilized
temperatures (so far) don’t suffice to keep February in the running.
We still wear long undies. Yet swimsuits go on sale. Ack!
February Visa bills bristle with charges we’d repressed.
We’ve already lost the right gloves of new pairs our in-laws
gave us for Christmas.
Cars define dirty. Even if some thug attempted to steal mine
before my very eyes, I wouldn’t realize it. If I did, I’d offer him the keys.
But I’m still feeling fine in February for 15 reasons:
God has not run away to Florida. He knew we
needed Him here big-time.
I love baggy clothes. Fitted-waistline spring
and summer outfits constrict my creativity. Not to mention, my breathing.
On Groundhog Day, a marginalized species is
celebrated with newspaper headlines. Isn’t it nice that groundhog groupies crowd
around Punxsutawney Phil as if he were Justin Bieber? Insane, but nice.
I don’t have to do spring-cleaning yet. Shoot,
if we squeeze a little more snow out of winter, I don’t have to take down my
Christmas wreath yet.
Let’s hear it for half-price chocolate the day
after Valentine’s Day!
If that’s not enough to make you smile, February
is also Great American Pie Month.
Because my toes are buried deep inside fuzzy
socks, I don’t have to polish my toenails.
Nor must I face my March birthday yet. An added
bonus: because leap year comes in 2020, I receive an extra day of reprieve.
My youngest grandchild was born on the 10th — a
reason to throw confetti all month long!
February’s sloppy weather creates an excellent
working environment for a writer. With a recluse sun rarely showing its face, my
laptop and I snuggle in my chair with zero desire to play hooky outside.
A steaming mug of coffee tastes 10 times better on
a February morning than in May.
Everybody’s windows are dirty. Everybody’s yard
looks lousy. Regardless of color, houses look gray. February in the Midwest is
a great equalizer when it comes to property upkeep. Unless you haven’t taken
down your Christmas wreath.
Girl Scout Cookies arrive in February.
Hot flashes come in handy.
it’s February, not November. Only a few weeks until legal spring.
The birds, chirping a
little louder, feel the change. So do brave, if stupid, daffodils poking up green
fingertips in my sheltered flower bed. With these tiny pre-signs of spring — along
with a few hundred Girl Scout Cookies — how can I keep from feeling fine in
Ordinary: What’s your favorite
thing about this month?