Fighting with a sinus infection this week left me wondering what in the world I could write about. Besides feeling icky, it’s winter with a capital “W”, and tomorrow it will be February again, the shortest, longest month of the whole year.
February is cold. The wind is howling outside. After all it is winter in all its glory. A good time to stay indoors, unless you love skiing, sledding or snowmobiling!
A few years ago, I was complaining in my usual fashion about February and got a great response from one of our readers, Laurie Hilyard of Clare, who defended this much maligned month (by me anyway) beautifully. I thought her six reasons to love February deserved another look, so here it is…once again.
- February is honest. February is Winter, with the capital “W.” It doesn’t pretend to be associated with any massive holiday season, or tease us with a vernal equinox and the first day of “spring.” It will be cold and snowy and there will be no crocuses blooming on the protected south side of the house. It is the heart of winter, and it never pretends that it isn’t. But, if you like snow-covered fields, the feel of cold air on your cheeks and nose, the small of wood smoke and the quiet purity of a winter morning after a snowfall, it doesn’t get any better than this.
- Increasing daylight. According to my trusty almanac, between February 1st and the 28th, there is an increase of 70 minutes of daylight, more than an hour! Compared to December and January, when most of with outside jobs leave home in the dark and get home in the dark, being able to actually see your front steps (and the ice on them) is a treat.
- February has Valentine’s Day. The original and best, since Sweetest Day seems too much of greeting card company’s creation. Now granted, if you have no significant other and would like one, Valentine’s can be depressing. But for most of us, this is a one-shot card and flower day which, despite the retail industries efforts, has remained the kind of holiday that you really don’t need to put much thought into until after 5 p.m. on the 13th. No huge dinners to cook, parades, wearing of special colors, crowded beaches, or family squabbles over who hosted last year – just a day to say “I’m glad I met you” to whoever is important to you. And for those who are looking for a significant other, the Clare County Animal Shelter in Harrison is stuffed with warm fuzzy living things just waiting to adore you.
- The roads are frozen. This may not be of importance to those of you on paved roads, but for those of us who live on clay roads, February beats the heck out of late March and April, when the bottom drops out and suspension eating ruts are the norm. Whatever color your vehicle was, it turns shades of brown, from light colored, almost dry splatters on the roof, to dark, gooey, drippy sludge that waits to attack your clothes when you get out at your destination. Compared to that, a few frozen r4idges seem downright pleasant.
- February is short. For those who dislike winter, February’s four weeks pass quickly. And the whole concept of leap year is so much fun, that extra day is no hardship.
- There isn’t much to do in February. Feel like sleeping in on the weekend? Go ahead. There isn’t a lawn to mow and any weeds in the garden are buried under the snow. Want to spend the weekend watching movies? No midterm finals, so let the kids check out what’s on the shelves and toss one or two in for yourself. Like to curl up with a good book? Why not? It isn’t like you can put a new roof on the house anyway. How about making some homemade cookies? Sure! Swimsuit season is months away and if you get real ambitious and shovel the walk, you’ll burn off the extra calories anyway.
So warm up the cocoa, put on your most comfortable old sweats and watch the birds at the feeder. Have a snowball fight with the kids/grandkids. Take the dogs for a walk down a deserted country road. Ski. Go snowmobiling. Beg or borrow a sled if you don’t have one, and find out if you are too old to go that fast down the hill. Take a nap. Light up the fireplace.
Be glad it’s February.
Laurie Hilyard
