My dear February,
You're a funny little month, aren't you? Always a bit of a tricker with your fickle number of days (can we ladies propose to our fellas this year or not? Yes? Yes!).
You're the toughest of the summer months, having a stronger constitution than all-party-no-discipline December, what with his boozy Christmas breakups, puerile muck-up days and wanton schoolies week. And don't talk to me about that slovenly January, with her too-busy-with-my-New-Year-hangover and you-kids-don't-go-too-far-while-Mummy-works-on-her-tan haziness.
It's left to you, my strong February, to show us who's boss, sending us back to school and work with a proper blast of hot weather and a sting in the tail. In the style of my mother threatening us after every tortured Sunday mass with an exasperated "Just wait until your father gets home!", you deliver on the punishment. Oh, February, you certainly do wear the pants in the summer family.
But you're not all about atoning for party season sins. There's a wicked yet undeniably romantic side to you, my darling February. Why else would you spoil us with Valentine's Day, Mardi Gras and Feb Fast? It's a mix for which lesser mortals may find too much to conjure with, but like any good disciplinarian, you set us the moral challenge akin to my grandmother's "Have fun! Stay safe!".
However, there is something which cannot go unsaid any longer. Don't deny it. There is a certain frisson between you and I, February, which must be acknowledged. I feel it, and I'm sure you must to. It's been building for so long. That's right, Feb, Febby, Febby-moo, mon petit fevrier, sweet Feb Feb - you are my favorite month. By a country mile. Don't blush - you know it's true.
This year you indulged me with the following 9 good things, you good thing:
1. Gratitude for what I have - a sentimental start brought about by a funeral. Through loss we are forced to acknowledge who we still have. And I'm a lucky girl to have who I have. Yes I am.
2. Icehouse and Hall & Oates - used to be (that is, in the 80's) I much preferred Hall and Oates and their catchy 'Private Eye' much more than the Aussie rockers. Don't say it - I know. All is in it's rightful order now. Icehouse sold me with their spine-tingling 'Man of Colors'.
3. Birthday celebrations - I buy birthday cards for others by the handful in February. It's a great month to charge your glass for a bit of hip-hip-hooray!
4. Botox - not for me an my character lines, unfortunately. Jack bravely endured his third round of botox treatment in the new Royal Childrens Hospital. I was relieved that the experience was all the easier due to a lovely new carpark with lots of disabled parking, and a very short wait for treatment. And for the better coffee on offer than the old hospital - sweet halleluja!
5. Miss Nellie May - we celebrated the eventful, joyous, and incredibly fast 12 months to Nellie's first birthday. February, you sweeten our Valentine's Day every year when you presented us with our little cherub on the 14th last year.
6. Girly Birthday Party - see point 5. Enough said. One big, sugary blur to me now.
7. CPEC - CPEC started back for the year. New group, new therapists, new days, new opportunities. It's not easy, but it's oh so important for us to help Jack to work it, baby.
8. Nanna's - which is to say how nice it is for one's own mother to hold one's own child whilst the four vaccination injections are delivered into dimpled one-year-old legs and arms. Not having to restrain her at the doctor's for once was a relief, although her hot tears of confusion still broke my heart.
9. My own birthday - my birthday mantra now is 'never mind the numbers, celebrate the moment'. I was spoilt with enjoying 'A Chorus Line' and a night at the Windsor, followed by an extravagent brunch cooked by my dear dad with friends at home. Who's a lucky girl, then?
So, February, you little minx, apple-of-my-year, once again you delivered. Action aplenty, leaving no emotional stone unturned. You kept me on my toes, wanting more, in that treat-'em-mean-keep-'em-keen way of yours.
And now that you're leaving me once again, gorgeous February, I'll be counting the days until we can be together again. For as is your habit, it was short, but oh so sweet.
No comments:
Post a Comment