"They say that February is the shortest month, but you know they could be wrong.
However more abbreviated than its cousins it may look, February feels longer than any of them. It is the meanest moon of winter, all the more cruel because it will masquerade as spring, occasionally for hours at a time, only to rip off its mask with a sadistic laugh and spit icicles into every gullible face, behavior that grows quickly old.
February is pitiless, and it's boring. That parade of red numerals on its page adds up to zero: birthdays of politicians, a holiday reserved for rodents, what kind of celebrations are those? The only bubble in the flat champagne of February is Valentine's Day. It was no accident that our ancestors pinned Valentine's day on February's shirt: he or she lucky enough to have a lover in frigid, antsy February has cause for celebration, indeed.
Except to the extent that it "tints the buds and swells the leaves within" February is as useless as the extra r in its name. It behaves like an obstacle, a wedge of slush and mud and ennui holding both progress and contentment at bay.
If February is the color of lard on rye, its aroma is that of wet wool trousers. As for sound, it is an abstract melody played on a squeaky violin, the petty whine of a shrew with cabin fever. O February, you may be little but you're not small! Were you twice your tiresome length, few of us would survive to greet the merry month of May." ~ Tom Robbins, from Jitterbug Perfume
"Glimmers" by Rachel Grant Art
I have been verbalizing the following, and I am now officially putting it in writing: For the months of October/November/December, I was in self-imposed hibernation, cocooning, roly-poly mode... which I very much needed as well as appreciated. Then... BAM... January and February. Yikes! Not to plead The Busy?Larabar (not Twinkie!) Defense, but... here was my overwhelming/non-stop schedule:
Saturday, 1/27: Hope Garden 9-11 a.m.
Sunday, 1/28: The Caring Community Volunteer Appreciation Day 1-4 p.m., gathering at Nancy's (to celebrate Judi's visit) 3-6 p.m.
Monday, 1/29: bereavement group 12:30-2 p.m.
Wednesday 1/31: lunch with Nancy, Judi, Suzanne 11 a.m.-2 p.m., Colin's soccer game 6-7 p.m.
Thursday, 2/1: Hope Garden 9-11 a.m., pre-fest dinner (group of 10), spend the night at Sarah's, drive Colin to school the next morning (Sarah had an early workshop to attend)
Friday through Sunday, 2/2-2/4: South Florida Folk Festival
Monday, 2/5: 10 a.m. therapy, 12:30-2 p.m. bereavement group, 2:30 late-lunch/early dinner with Brian
Tuesday, 2/6: leave about noon to see Dar Williams in Key West (arrive about 4 p.m., concert at 7 p.m., spend the night, head back home about 2 p.m. (hopefully after walking on the beach with Dar!), home about 6 p.m.
Wednesday, 2/7: Long-overdue Recovery Day, maybe?
Thursday, 2/8: lunch with RobbyG, True North Project board meeting 7-9 p.m.
Friday, 2/9: cookie decorating with Kerrie and Cynthia 3-5 p.m., post-fest dinner with Jay, Jimmy, Nancy, Dave, etc.
Saturday, 2/10: Hope Garden 9-11, more cookie decorating with Kerrie and Cynthia 1-3 p.m.
Sunday, 2/11: breakfast with John and Andrew (two of Eric's friends and their girlfriends), Chico, Sarah and Colin, end-of-season picnic for Colin's soccer team 2-4 p.m.
Stop the world, I want to get off... 😱 😱 😱
And I did. Whew! Not much Pause happening in that chaotic-yet-joyful time period... but that used to be my life, and I don't want to do that anymore. Backing up a bit... Pacing myself (another P-word; thanks, Melanie!)... boundaries and reprioritizing. Ah. Yes. Inhale/Exhale... 찲 😌ॐ
P.S. I grew up in the Southeast, so I never understood the crocus as metaphor until someone explained this song to me. Big fat f*cking epiphany. Dar is brilliant (but we already knew that!)
P.P.S. More detailed posts about the festival as well as the Dar Key West road trip coming soon... 💞
P.S. I grew up in the Southeast, so I never understood the crocus as metaphor until someone explained this song to me. Big fat f*cking epiphany. Dar is brilliant (but we already knew that!)
P.P.S. More detailed posts about the festival as well as the Dar Key West road trip coming soon... 💞
BOOK: Bearing the Unbearable: Love, Loss, and the Heartbreaking Path of Grief by Dr. Joanne Cacciatore, Jeffrey Rubin (Foreword)
POEM: In February by Alice Meynell
QUOTE: “While it is February, one can taste the full joys of anticipation. Spring stands at the gate, with her finger on the latch.” ~ Patience Strong
POEM: In February by Alice Meynell
Rich meanings of the prophet-Spring adorn,
Unseen, this colourless sky of folded showers,
And folded winds; no blossom in the bowers;
A poet's face asleep in this grey morn.
Now in the midst of the old world forlorn
A mystic child is set in these still hours.
I keep this time, even before the flowers,
Sacred to all the young and the unborn.
To all the miles and miles of unsprung wheat,
And to the Spring waiting beyond the portal,
And to the future of my own young art,
And, among all these things, to you, my sweet,
My friend, to your calm face and the immortal
Child tarrying all your life-time in your heart.
QUOTE: “While it is February, one can taste the full joys of anticipation. Spring stands at the gate, with her finger on the latch.” ~ Patience Strong
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