February!

And you know what that means. Yours Truly sleeps under a star arrangement moreorless the same as the arrangement in which he squeezed out to breathe his first precious breaths. Cancer, Sirius trailing Orion, Pegasus. Cygnus rising.

February, brrr! The last few days the house was fine with no extra heat source. Now I'm wrapped in a blanket and my nose is cold. Because February has bite. Sure, it might pussyfoot around toward the end of the month. But when February comes, you best be ready for a cold snap. Especially you, Midwest.

The cold, as you know, is a nice set up for the most romantic day of the year, my wife's birthday. Over the years, I've slyly conditioned Bonnie to have low expectations on that sweet sweet day, so maybe this year I will surprise her and do one little thing like offer to do the dishes or change one of the pee diapers on that day. Or maybe I'll bring her home some fresh ingredients so she can make some of her delicious homemade ginger cookies in the shapes of little hearts. Then in the evening I will get her a blanket so she can wrap up in it while I write some weblog entries. (Don't tell her but I'm thinking about getting her a nosemitten.).

There is, of course, the Super Bowl. They changed it to February because, let's face it, February is when athletes and mothers do their best work.

Another unsung hero of the days of month two is Presidents Day. In a month exactly four weeks long, why not make the work load even less! This means that salary is sweeter in February. Not to mention it makes another three day weekend so I can do something else special for Bonnie. Oh, snap! I just checked my schedule and it looks like my school doesn't observe that federal holiday. So goodbye, sweet salary. Goodbye, something special.

Still, February, it's better to have a birthmonth of low expectations and a little disappointment, than to not have a birthmonth at all. So thank you for existing.

Today is groundhog day. This means that depending on your desires for Winter or Spring, this could be a day of joy or of less joy. In Houston, with the temperature having dropped 50 degrees in the past day, I doubt any groundhogs are going to be putting their noses anywhere except snuggled up in their mate's fur. And that is sounding good to me as the night draws on, except that with Bonnie, it is called hair, and I'm going to go snuggle my nose in it.