February does this to me every. single. time. I think I have a week to go in the month and BOOM, no more February. It's like tipping your teacup back for one last sweet swig and finding nothing there. Or, maybe it's like coming to the top of a staircase, expecting one more step, then finding last-second that one doesn't exist, and suddenly being caught in the resultant execution of a chunky, misfit (silly-looking) over-step onto the next floor.
You know what I mean?
Then, you have to recover a moment from the lack of steps, the lack of tea, the lack of February.
And quickly re-group for March, which is usually the month that winter and spring fight over. It's interesting to be caught in the middle of a fight for thirty-one days with your rubber boots on. You never know who is going to throw the next punch. Is it going to be sloppy mud, or rotten snow?
Either and both.
While all of that is raging outside, I'll have a pink amaryllis blooming inside (my first ever), and my orchid, too, which I've been waiting for these last twelve months. I'll enjoy them while I generally zip up winter and shake out spring in the little house. It's the best way to handle March, I've decided. Eradicate the dust bunnies, touch-up paint, sew new pillow covers, grow alfalfa sprouts - basically, thumb my nose at the fight outside.
It's what I'm thinking about as I trip out of February.
How do you handle the transition from winter to spring?
P.S. Yes. After having January's calendar page up for almost all of February, I've gone ahead and skipped straight to March.
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