Archived Past Pages:

2007 pages

2008 pages

2009 pages

2010 pages

2011 pages

2012 pages

2013 pages

2014 pages

W e e k l y   F e a t u r e   P a g e
Links to archived past pages on lower left

FEBUARY 22, 2015

February…..Worst. Episode. Everrr

Without fail, the weather starts to get to me this time of the year.

I drag out the sweatshirts, long-johns, gloves, and all of that around the first of November. You know it’s coming, this ain’t your first rodeo, it doesn’t make you happy, but you know it’s coming. Still, it seems pretty much appropriate for November. You have deer season to look forward to, Thanksgiving creates a warm feeling just thinking about it, and after all, you did get to enjoy May through October. It’s almost like you feel a little guilty about that, and maybe it’s time to pay the fiddler. So you square your shoulders, strap on your Carhartts, and step out into the winter. Of course, you still have Christmas, that holiday feeling, and all those pretty blue LED lights to distract you from the gradual lowering of the temperature in your extremities. So you trudge merrily along, putting the cold out of your consciousness, in much the same manner as you deal with any practical concerns about the growing balance on your credit card statement. We all have that human defense mechanism that allows us to postpone the scary, unpleasant stuff, while enabling us to still function in the present. “We’ll worry about that next month”, rolls off the tongue a little more smoothly with each repetition.

And so it goes, the month of January is a little bit like a hangover. The discarded tinsel and brittle pine needles, the vague feeling of dread, a little remorse for the wanton excess of the month before, all feel a bit like the circumstances that might have set the stage for a Sunday morning resolution in your younger years. But, hey, it’s January, whatever else life may deal you, you already expected it to be the coldest month, so you accept that. Again, didn’t say you liked it, but you accepted it.

Then one day you realize that it’s February ! You had faced down the specter of January, and you are still standing. Almost a little proud of yourself, maybe, as you blithely flip to the new page on the calendar. February ! There’s Groundhog Day, and maybe now you notice that there is still a little residual daylight as you saw off the end piece of the meatloaf and sit down for supper. In the back of your mind, you remember that somewhere around February 4^th or 5^th, the average daily high temperature begins to creep up by a degree or so. It’s kinda’ like the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel, that ray of hope that you desperately cling to when the going gets tough. Hope; it’s not as rigid or defined as faith, but it can still get you through the night when February comes around. You’ve been there in the past, you’ve seen snow melt in February, you’ve stepped out to feed the dog with just a sweatshirt on. You’ve seen the cocky middle-school kids running down the sidewalk in T-Shirts in February. You know it can happen.

Then, one year it doesn’t. This year. You’re already into the last week of February, and every damn snowflake that fell into your yard all winter is still there. Every day, you look only at the final day of the 7 day forecast, hoping to see a high temp prediction that exceeds today’s high. Instead, you’re faced with a perpetual downward spiral. And not just down, it’s re-writing-the-record-books down. Off the charts down. What the hell is this ?? All my hope, and no change ! Thanks, Obama. (this refers to the pop-culture catch phrase Obama, not the POTUS, it just seemed to fit so well here when I needed a metaphorical scapegoat) I already have plenty of weather related horror stories to bore my grandkids with, I don’t need any new material.

March, maybe March. If I can reset my seasonal mental health schedule one month forward and just pick up from there, maybe I’ll be all right. There’s my birthday, and St Paddy’s Day is always fun. I could slip the studded tennis balls on the back skids of my walker and find the nearest bar with a shamrock on the sign. Or, I could visit my friendly local herbalist and maybe sit in front of one of those big, bright lights for a while. He says they provide heat, too. He always seems warm and happy, so maybe he’s right. 7 more days until March…. I can do it. Then everything will be better.

©2007-2014 Mid Michigan Old Gas Tractor Association (MMOGTA). The contents of all materials available on this Internet site are copyrighted by Mid Michigan Old Gas Tractor Association (MMOGTA) unless otherwise indicated. All rights are reserved by Mid Michigan Old Gas Tractor Association (MMOGTA), and content may not be reproduced, downloaded, disseminated, published, or transferred in any form or by any means, except with the prior written permission of Mid Michigan Old Gas Tractor Association (MMOGTA). Any unauthorized usage on newsgroups, or other internet sites, or unauthorized reproduction, printing or sales of these images is prohibited under existing Federal Copyright laws of the United States. We will actively prosecute those that duplicate, distribute or otherwise use our images without express written authorization or release. Mid Michigan Old Gas Tractor Association (MMOGTA) maintains this website to enhance public access to information about its functions and policies in general. Our goal is to keep this information timely and accurate. If errors are brought to our attention, we will try to correct them as soon as possible. Mid Michigan Old Gas Tractor Association (MMOGTA), however, accepts no responsibility or liability whatsoever with regard to the material on this site.