Dear February,

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!