I hosted a goodbye party for February yesterday, but don’t feel bad that you weren’t invited.
I kept the guest list pretty small –just me, the shortest month, a couple of shovels and about a million yards of the thickest non-rink ice I’ve ever seen.
I really should have invited Mr. Zamboni. He would have loved it.
I mean, anybody would, right? The wacking, chopping, hoisting, scooping and dumping went on for a good two hours. There’s nothing more festive than the sound of an ancient metal shovel scraping icy cement.
I feel kind of sorry for people who don’t live in north-facing corner houses on the thumb side of Wisconsin. You’ll never know the satisfaction of smacking and shattering a thick sheet of ice, then sliding your shovel underneath and tossing it all on a snow bank.
You might have caught me cursing all that February ice in other years. But, not this one.
No, this year I smiled as I made my way ever so slowly down the sidewalk. Each time I smacked that old chopper down on the ice, I felt like I was high-fiving February.
It’s been an exceptionally good month around here, the month that brought us our first grandchild and a whole bunch of other good news.
So, I didn’t mind the work (though my poor chopping muscles are a little under the weather today).
I appreciated the opportunity to give a little something back to the month that has brought us so much joy.
See you next year, February.
We’ll have a real party then.
