I have a list of writing prompts stored in various files, paper and computer. I came across one recently that goes like this:
“What does January feel like? Write a poem or paragraph (or whatever) that explains your opinion of and emotions felt for the twelve different months of the year.”
OK, I missed January, but I’m going to start today with February. If anyone would like to join in the Monthly Musings Meme, feel free, and please leave me a comment so I can find you.
February. Just the word conjures up layers of clothes, snuggling up close, and mugs of hot chocolate. It’s the shortest month of the year and many would say, “thank goodness!” But not me. I rather enjoy this mini-month.
For me, it serves as the month where I can comfortably, without guilt or peer pressure, be a hermit. I can hole myself up near the fire, just the computer and me, or a good book and me, or, you know, if I’m feeling semi-social, P and me, and just relax, relishing these laid-back 28 (sometimes 29) days of blah.
I’m not big on new year’s resolutions, but even if I were, I don’t think I’d make them until February. January’s still too hectic, recovering from the holidays, getting the house back into everyday order, planning out projects, budgets, and basically debriefing the previous year. How can I possibly decide what I want for myself for the next 11 months with all that going on?
February, on the other hand, is the month in which I pick up the fun stuff I had been meaning to do, reading books I had been too tired to get to at night, thinking about learning to knit (again), getting papers in order for my taxes. OK, the last one isn’t so much fun as necessary, but the wind outside does give me just enough inspiration to dig into the stacks of papers.
February forces me to stay inside the house, and I have to admit, I kinda like it. A lot. All that time to decompress. Stop. Appreciate. Enjoy.
But it’s a short month, so there’s not a whole lotta time between checking on Phil’s shadow and greeting the lion or the lamb. February tends to fly by, but after a month of slowing down, I’m always ready for March’s sunshine and earlier sunrises to kick my butt back into gear.
Because, you know, hibernating can get tiring.