Ick! It’s only two and a half weeks away…!
Yes, I hate the month. I hate the way it’s spelled, Feb-RU-Ary … dumb! I hate how it’s ALWAYS gray, icy, BORING! Twenty-eight days but sometimes, twenty-nine! What is that about?!
And then there’s Valantine’s Day… So LAME! Women getting these big expectations, that no man can ever fulfill… getting their hopes stomped on, their little hearts broken, or worse, their friends all have great, perfect men in their lives and her friends are spoiled like princesses, and all she gets is a darn chic flick to make her feel more lonely, awful, and apparently unloveable.
You read all this and you think, ‘ooo this person has issues, this person must hate men and has had a pissy Valantine’s day every year of her life!‘ Ha. No. I don’t have any bad memories of February 14th. Except one year two young guys, brothers of a friend of mine, had a drunk roommate who shot both of them in their beds where they died. Their funeral sat on February 14th; I also happened to get an infected tooth that pounded the side of my head like a baseball bat… That day sucked. But not because of a some romanceless vibe.
To those people who really enjoy Valentine’s day, great! Good for you. While you’re at it, have a wonderful February. You see, if my husband gets off so easily, that only one day a year he must spoil me and show affection, and the rest of the year he’s unaccountable, forget it! I want something from the heart. Not a calendar obligated motion of appeal. Stupid Valentine’s Day. Stupid Feber-rur-ary…
Always cold, always dismal, always gray and dirty–wretched, accursed month of February!
I have made up my mind; the only reason we have kept this sorry accuse for a month, is for book-worms to wear heavy, bright, golden okra knit infinity scarves and perch themselves into some Nook somewhere, to waste the month away in some far off land they’ve discovered while flipping through a paperback.
Sometimes, it’s our enemies who make us stronger.
Just like February, the month I disdain –it makes me want to write the sort of novel that keeps a reader transfixed all twenty-eight (or perhaps twenty-nine, blast it!) miserable days!
I’m sure February must be a fabulous month in the Southern Hemisphere. Perhaps I should move to New Zealand like all the Facebook quizzes tell me I ought to. But until I do, I’ll have to find myself a perfectly heavy, bold-knit scarf that makes my head look abnormally small, find a Nook (before the F-month comes along) and read my pre-K son another set of Curious George books…preferably a set of twenty-eight.
Oh, and we’ll make pancakes in the afternoon. No one can eat pancakes on a gray, lifeless morning. No. We’ll wait until the afternoon.
So, here is my donation to your February Survival Kit:
- 1 1/2 cups flour
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 1 heaping teaspoon baking soda
- 1 1/2 Tablespoon brown sugar
- 2 cups buttermilk (or milk with a splash of lemon juice) or try eggnog-Yum!
- 2 eggs
- 1 Tablespoon oil
- 1/2 teaspoon vanilla (optional)
- 1 dash cinnamon (optional)
Mix until liquid and lumpy. Pour on a hot griddle, flip when bubbles form.