Dear February,
You do know that you weren't supposed to begin until today, don't you? I was surprised to look at my calendar and see I was three days late. You started without me, but that doesn't surprise me.
You are a sly month, dearest February. You are supposed to be a month of love, but the snow keeps on falling, and I have to drive in it.
My son told me that my car is a "snow beast." According to him, that's good, but I still slip down the hill near church. Can you explain this? If my car is, indeed, a snow beast, that shouldn't be happening in February, should it?
In other parts of the country, spring is not the forbidden fruit that it is here. I place the blame squarely on you, dear February, clearly on you!
Then there is the celebration of love called Valentine's Day.
It's nice at times, I will admit, dearest February,
but
when you are snowed in with people you don't like on Valentine's Day at a restaurant because your
Snow beast cannot handle the amount of snow,
well, enough said about that.
The flowers are still resting under the snow, sleeping.
That is such a beautiful image, isn't it, February?
Today, our high will be 1,
Yes, February, I said, 1.
Where are the flowers now?
If they are smart, they have fled my garden to be found in Florida or Hawaii.
Oh, February, you are a fickle beast.
If you think I don't like you, you're right.
However,
on the plus side,
you are a short month,
as you deserve to be.
People are cranky!
People want to wear sandals, shorts and tank tops.
Oh, February you are a cruel mistress!
Fly by me.
I'm ready for spring!
