Thirty days hath September, April, June, and November. All the rest have thirty-one, except February. February is screwed up. (In the original* this was not "screwed up," it was, as you might well imagine, something else entirely.)Now according to the source of all knowledge on the Web of World Wideness -
Historical names for February include the Old English terms Solmonath (mud month) and Kale-monath (named for cabbage) as well as Charlemagne's designation Hornung**. In Finnish, the month is called helmikuu, meaning "month of the pearl"; when snow melts on tree branches, it forms droplets, and as these freeze again, they are like pearls of ice. In Polish and Ukrainian, respectively, the month is called luty or лютий, meaning the month of ice or hard frost. In Macedonian the month is sechko (сечко), meaning month of cutting [wood]. In Czech, it is called únor, meaning month of submerging [of river ice].In Little Rhody February is often called "Ah crap, izzat snow?" (And why would they name a month after cabbage? I mean mud month makes perfect sense, but "cabbage month"?) I seem to recall lots of snowy days in the 18 Februarys I've seen here in Little Rhody, not to mention parts of a couple up in the Bay State around Andover where it seemed to snow every fire trucking day one winter. So I consider February to be a snowy month. (As an aside, do you know what a pain in the a$$ it is to type February? I mean try it yourself a few times, it wants to come out as "Febuary," that first "R" just doesn't want to go in there. Which is also why, I think, people say "Feb you airy" and not "Feb brew airy." That first "R" is somehow unnatural. I blame the Romans. Which is probably why they built Hadrian's Wall in the first place, all those nasty Scotsmen coming south and shouting "It's called An Gearran, you Roman twits!)
Now I know that yesterday was the first day of February. (Incidentally, the title is how Vermonters pronounce it, well this Vermonter anyway. It's actually pronounced "feb brew airy." which is cool, I like a cold brew every now and then. Especially when I'm off to the library. [Tee-hee, see what I did there?] Anyhoo, I digress.) I know that as you read this (unless you're reading this in the future when it isn't the second day of the second month) it is now the 2nd of February but Tuna surprised me with his trip to Pensacola post. It was a pleasant surprise as I was able to have an extra day off this week. Time off is good. Not doubt Juvat will go on strike or something because he had to post on the day after Christmas. Which was a Monday, and for most of us a holiday. Except for Juvat of course. And here I am, getting yet another day off.
But this post should have been published on the first, but what I actually wrote for the 31st of January I published on the first of the second month. I really liked that post, though, as always, YMMV. And why am I belaboring this point? I dunno, it's a mystery. Oh yeah, but I digress...
So, February aside, you may (or may not) have noticed that I have been refraining from posts of a political nature as of late (which is fancy talk for "lately"). (This refraining does not apply to either Juvat or Tuna, they are free to post on des affaires politique as much as they like.) I don't particularly care for politics as apparently it drives people insane, or perhaps it merely makes them seem insane. Koobecaf has been particularly loony as of late.
I have friends who are dyed in the wool liberals, others who are hard core conservatives. Both groups have been wandering into the political realm as of late (there it is again***) and it is most painful. I've actually "unfollowed" a few people who were posting out and out lies and proclaiming it as Gospel truth. Perhaps they don't know any better?
Sigh. Just post cute kitten and puppy videos and snapshots of the grand-kids, okay? Where I went on vacation, recipes, great beers I have tried, and the like are also okay.
|Just say no...|
Now I may have mentioned before that Little Bit has the tendency to trigger my inner two-year-old. When she gets feisty with me, we get into shouting matches, as we are both rather strong willed and loud. She gets feisty with me a lot, I like provoking her, much to The WSO's dismay. Now The Missus Herself has long known (suspected?) that I am but a little boy in a man's body but even she will get exasperated with me when I start arguing with my six-year-old granddaughter. What no one realizes is that Little Bit and I enjoy taunting each other. A lot.
As to the aforementioned promotion...
Back in December I jokingly told my precious little granddaughter that not only was I going to fly out to California and pinch her for sassing me over the phone but that I also suspected that she was the "Mayor of Poopy Town."
Dead silence on the other end. Until I heard...
"No grandpa, you're the Mayor of Poopy Town."
After that we had a long philosophical discussion which basically consisted of the phrase - "No, I'm not, you are" - being exchanged back and forth rather like a demented verbal tennis match. Until the two adults on the phone, The WSO and The Missus Herself, told the two children, Yours Truly and Little Bit, to go find something else to do. Which we did, laughing and still yelling insults at each other. (Sigh, she's a chip off the old block she is.)
At any rate, when last chatting with the Lemoore branch of the far flung tribe, before I could say a word, Little Bit informed me that I was no longer the "Mayor of Poopy Town" but was now "Mayor of the Poopy Ocean," which I gather is a much more esteemed position than being merely the Mayor of Poopy Town, as an ocean is far larger than a town. I guess she'll be bringing the official sash and all that when she visits later this month.
I just hope there are no politics involved.
* The Sarge original that is, not this one.
** Apparently Charlemagne was a big Green Bay fan, BITD.
*** It's my inner touchy-feel Alan Aldaesque man of the eighties prose coming out, I'm sure.