April is the cruelest month?

With all due respect to T.S. Eliot, I have got to say that February has always struck me as the month most brutal.


We awoke early yesterday morning to a foot of snow in the driveway, a temperature of twenty degrees and a howling wind. At least the sun did ultimately appear, and the local landscape now resembles a bright winter wonderland. But picturesque scenery aside, this weather turns most any task or trip outside the home into a hassle that most people could do without.


February is also the third calendar month of a winter season in these parts that, for some reason, always seems to pass at a snail's pace. By February, the holidays are long over, the uplifting promise of a new year's fresh start has for the most part been forgotten, and winter starts to drag on. Personal energy levels begin to sag, fatigue increases, grumpiness sets in more readily and cabin fever starts to rear its ugly head. There are, I'm sure, some perpetually perky people out there whom are bothered not one bit by this month. More power to them, or to their Paxil, whichever the case may be. The rest of us, however, must soldier on through February as best we can.

To that end, I shall make every effort this month to revel in the delights, limited as they seem at first glance, that February has to offer. A hike through the snowy woods. A glass of wine in front of a glowing fire. Clearance sales on cashmere. The Super Bowl this evening. Perhaps a winter weekend out of town. And, definitely, a bit of comfort food.

So before I head outside here shortly to dig out my car, I shall first dig out my crockpot. I'm thinking Italian beef sandwiches, accompanied by macaroni and cheese. I will let you know how it goes...as to both dinner and the month.