Febrrrrrruary

I used to try to decide which was the worst month of the year. In the winter I would choose February. I had it figured out that the reason God made February short a few days was because he knew that by the time people came to the end of it they would die if they had to stand one more blasted day. December and January are cold and wet, but, somehow, that's their right. February is just plain malicious. It knows your defenses are down. Christmas is over and spring seems years away. So February sneaks in a couple of beautiful days early on, and just when you're stretching out like a cat waking up, bang! February hits you right in the stomach. And not with a lightning strike like a September hurricane, but punch after punch after punch. February is a mean bully. Nothing could be worse - except August.

-Jacob Have I Loved by Katherine Paterson

I love this quote. Not only is it from a great book that I just read (it was on my kids' book list), but it is so true. February to me thinks it's all innocent being a short month and all, but it does pack a punch. January flies by on the post-holiday jet. February takes it's own sweet, painful time.

My mom's birthday is at the beginning of February. She tells the story about when she was little and she would get cotton socks for her birthday. (They were a poor family). These cotton socks were a big deal, because they had been wearing wool socks for at least 2 months prior, and were itching (get it?) for a change. She says that at the beginning of February there are always some warm days, warm enough to wear cotton socks. And you know what? Nine times out of ten she's right. I always think of that story and hope that there are some warm days to remind us that we won't be stuck in this cold forever. But man, it sure feels like it sometimes.