To combat February's effect, Mum goes on a cruise to warmer, sunnier, places. She's off, now, on her annual adventure, leaving her cat to rule the roost and me to invade her house when no one's looking (which I do from time to time with and without the family, because I don't thinks it's a good idea for a house to be empty for so long).
We joke about boycotting February. In a way, that's what her cruise is about - getting out of Dodge until the month is mostly, or entirely, gone.
Me? I'd love to join her, but it's not feasible. There are the cats, and the kids, and now fish, snakes, and snails. There's Someone. There's the expense. There's the idea of wearing a bathing suit in public.
So I stay here and muddle through varying shades of beige until the month is over. With any luck, no one will die on my birthday again, or anywhere in the month. With any luck nothing will break (too late, but that's another story), or blow up, or fall apart, or melt, or otherwise cause messy, expensive mayhem in our lives, at least for these few weeks. With any luck this sinus thing that's hammering me will not get into my lungs and leave me useless for weeks on end. With any luck, the daffodils out back will bloom all sunny and cheerful and I can shoot some photos and smile.
And it's not all bad - K2 was born in February, and our friend A, and T, and Abraham Lincoln and Galileo so I'm in pretty good company, right?
No, sorry...February still sucks out loud. I'm crawling in bed and I'm not coming out until the iris bloom. What's the number for room service?
*Have a great trip, Mum...take lots of pictures, get tan, and bring me back some of the Caribbean, please!