Powered by: BKGjewelry
I find myself, once again, stuck in the annual black hole of winter, and it got me to thinking…, who made up this stinkin’ month, anyway? Back in ancient Roman days, the period of time we now call February wasn’t even named, because the Romans, in their extreme wisdom, thought of the winter as a long, miserable, monthless period, unworthy of being segmented and assigned monthly monikers. When it finally was tacked on, it was the last month of the year, and days could be taken from or added to at will. Finally, when the Romans started having more dentist appointments, and calendar printing companies were clamoring for reform and standardization, the Julian calendar was adopted, and February became the second month in the year. The name of the month comes from the word, februum, which is a Latin version of the word Brrrrrrrrrrr! If a Roman soldier tried to say “februum” while his stomach was growling and his lips were frozen together (both common occurrences in the bleak midwinter), it was very difficult to understand. If someone with warmer lips was trying to discern what was being said, they would ask, feb you, eh?” and hence, the name February was born. Other northern countries eventually came up with more logical names for this month, like Macedonia, for example, where it’s called some unpronounceable word meaning, “wood cutting month” or the Polish who refer to February simply as “ice.” These names are so logical, and easier to spell. Too bad these countries didn’t rally more support for calendar reform based on their common sense. If someone put me in charge, I would find a name that means “the month to be bored and grumpy and sick.” I think “Bleah” would just be perfect. January, Bleah, March….yeah, that sounds good.
Whatever the name or the spelling, February will always be the darkest, seemingly longest month of the year. I personally think there should be a law that requires, or at least allows, hibernation in the northern hemisphere, maybe from…say….latitudes of 38˚N or higher. God surely did not intend for those of us in the north to be active during the month of February. We are supposed to be sleeping, eating, and staring at our I-devices. Instead, we are getting up like we do every other month, shoveling snow, and going about our usual business, but we’re doing it with a lot less energy and a lot more grumbling than in other months. Over the centuries, people have tried to spruce up this annual northern tribulation. In the United States, we’ve come up with the Super Bowl, St. Valentine’s Day, and Presidents’ Day…..that’s it. That’s all we got. No one really cares all that much about who wins the Super Bowl. It’s just an excuse for getting together with friends and eating football-shaped foods of all sorts. Pies, cakes, jello molds, cheeseballs, meatloaf, you name it. Just about any food can be molded into the likeness of a football. When that’s over, we say, “Thank, God,” and we start counting the days until baseball season begins.
Valentine’s Day is a big event near the middle of the month. No one is really sure who decided to go all gung-ho with this celebration, but we all fall for it, buying cards and candy, or flowers and jewelry. Some go all out and take their loved one out for dinner. We do all this in the name of a man who isn’t officially a saint anymore. St. Valentine’s story ended up becoming a bit too embellished and confusing (there is probably more than one St. Valentine), so he is no longer on the official saint calendar of the Catholic Church. I think he actually took himself off of the calendar, kind of like Brian Williams at NBC Nightly News. Between the two of them, there are some whopper stories of daredevil adventures, some of which are not holding up under intense scrutiny. However, in defense of Valentine, he did not embellish his own stories – that was done by his faithful friends and followers, after his death. And, Valentine was martyred. Mr. Williams should have thought of that idea.
Once we’ve made it past Valentine’s Day, the only bright spot left for us Americans is President’s Day. Whoop-di-doo and fiddle-dee-dee! Let’s take Monday off and go buy a washing machine (in honor of George WASHington). After that, we can recite the Gettysburg address, sift through all of the President’s Day cards we received in the mail, and pack this holiday away until next year.
There’s nothing after that, people. Just day after endless day of bleakness and frigid arctic air, with an occasional tease of some slightly warm days, just enough to flare up the sinus issues, and then it’s back to winter. We’re all getting tired of soup and squash. We long for sun and warmth and fresh vegetables, but it is not to be. If we were snuggled up in a warm, cozy bed, waking only to snack on some stale potato chips, drink some warm tea, and run to the bathroom, it would be tolerable, but no…yours truly still has to plan meals, and go grocery shopping, and cook, and go to work, and watch the news, and gather up all the stuff I need to file my annual income tax return.
The only thing that makes any sense at all is that Lent begins next Wednesday. I love it when Lent begins fairly early in February, because it’s a penitential period, a time of sacrifice and alms-giving so PERFECTLY suited to February. Last year, Lent didn’t start until March, which was just about unbearable – an entire month of murk and misery was squandered. So now, beginning next week, at least I can put all this suffering to good use. No one will say anything if I don’t smile as much as usual, or if dinner is spaghetti for the third time this week. They’ll just assume I’m over-practicing penance, or something like that. And then, before we know it Easter will come peeking through the clouds, and winter will be over, and it will be glorious! Hang in there everyone….we will make it to spring somehow, just like we’ve done every other year!
Whatever the name or the spelling, February will always be the darkest, seemingly longest month of the year. I personally think there should be a law that requires, or at least allows, hibernation in the northern hemisphere, maybe from…say….latitudes of 38˚N or higher. God surely did not intend for those of us in the north to be active during the month of February. We are supposed to be sleeping, eating, and staring at our I-devices. Instead, we are getting up like we do every other month, shoveling snow, and going about our usual business, but we’re doing it with a lot less energy and a lot more grumbling than in other months. Over the centuries, people have tried to spruce up this annual northern tribulation. In the United States, we’ve come up with the Super Bowl, St. Valentine’s Day, and Presidents’ Day…..that’s it. That’s all we got. No one really cares all that much about who wins the Super Bowl. It’s just an excuse for getting together with friends and eating football-shaped foods of all sorts. Pies, cakes, jello molds, cheeseballs, meatloaf, you name it. Just about any food can be molded into the likeness of a football. When that’s over, we say, “Thank, God,” and we start counting the days until baseball season begins.
Valentine’s Day is a big event near the middle of the month. No one is really sure who decided to go all gung-ho with this celebration, but we all fall for it, buying cards and candy, or flowers and jewelry. Some go all out and take their loved one out for dinner. We do all this in the name of a man who isn’t officially a saint anymore. St. Valentine’s story ended up becoming a bit too embellished and confusing (there is probably more than one St. Valentine), so he is no longer on the official saint calendar of the Catholic Church. I think he actually took himself off of the calendar, kind of like Brian Williams at NBC Nightly News. Between the two of them, there are some whopper stories of daredevil adventures, some of which are not holding up under intense scrutiny. However, in defense of Valentine, he did not embellish his own stories – that was done by his faithful friends and followers, after his death. And, Valentine was martyred. Mr. Williams should have thought of that idea.
Once we’ve made it past Valentine’s Day, the only bright spot left for us Americans is President’s Day. Whoop-di-doo and fiddle-dee-dee! Let’s take Monday off and go buy a washing machine (in honor of George WASHington). After that, we can recite the Gettysburg address, sift through all of the President’s Day cards we received in the mail, and pack this holiday away until next year.
There’s nothing after that, people. Just day after endless day of bleakness and frigid arctic air, with an occasional tease of some slightly warm days, just enough to flare up the sinus issues, and then it’s back to winter. We’re all getting tired of soup and squash. We long for sun and warmth and fresh vegetables, but it is not to be. If we were snuggled up in a warm, cozy bed, waking only to snack on some stale potato chips, drink some warm tea, and run to the bathroom, it would be tolerable, but no…yours truly still has to plan meals, and go grocery shopping, and cook, and go to work, and watch the news, and gather up all the stuff I need to file my annual income tax return.
The only thing that makes any sense at all is that Lent begins next Wednesday. I love it when Lent begins fairly early in February, because it’s a penitential period, a time of sacrifice and alms-giving so PERFECTLY suited to February. Last year, Lent didn’t start until March, which was just about unbearable – an entire month of murk and misery was squandered. So now, beginning next week, at least I can put all this suffering to good use. No one will say anything if I don’t smile as much as usual, or if dinner is spaghetti for the third time this week. They’ll just assume I’m over-practicing penance, or something like that. And then, before we know it Easter will come peeking through the clouds, and winter will be over, and it will be glorious! Hang in there everyone….we will make it to spring somehow, just like we’ve done every other year!
