The Month of Love

It’s GROUNDHOG DAY!

“Rise and shine, campers, and don’t forget your booties, cause it’s cold out there today--it’s cold out there every day…”

Had to quote the only movie devoted to Groundhog Day—at least the only one I’ve seen—on Groundhog Day itself.

Now that that’s over with, let’s discuss February, aka The Month of Love. A funny/strange boy named Don in one of my wards in college gave a talk in church one February around Valentine’s Day and opened with the line, “I just love February—it’s The Month of Love.” No clue what his talk was about, I just remember that opening line. You really had to be there, I guess, but anyway. Since then I have adopted the pseudonym for myself whenever I refer to this, the second month of the year.

Let’s backtrack a little more: I’m a holiday person by nature—my mom used to give us little presents for almost every holiday, not just Christmas and Easter—socks on Halloween, a book on Valentine’s Day, a new outfit on St. Patrick’s Day, whatever she was in the mood to give. When I was in college she sent me decorations for every holiday, and she continues to send me socks for every holiday. I believe my love for holidays has stemmed from this tradition. Maybe it wasn’t as consistent as I remember, but whatever, for the sake of the story.

I can remember waking up on Valentine’s Day mornings when I was in grade school with butterflies in my stomach—the kind of excitement you have on Christmas mornings. It wasn’t especially because of any specific boys or anything, or even about boys in general—I just loved the day. I loved pink and red; I loved paper doilies; I loved candy; I loved making little mailboxes out of lunch bags or shoeboxes or whatever and taping them to the side of my desk at school for my classmates to fill with Strawberry Shortcake/Star Wars/Barbie/Hot Wheels/etc.-themed Valentine cards. Those days are gone, I suppose, but I still love The Month of Love.

As an aside, I never really had a “Valentine” of my own to speak of until I got married—to me, boys still aren’t the point of Valentine’s Day. It’s all about pink and red, etc. And of course about good friends, who would give you Barbie Valentine cards if you were still six.

My enthusiasm for February in particular has dwindled slightly since I moved to Utah—while February skies are clear, blue, and beautiful in Southern California (except for this year, I gather), they’re equally cold, gray, and inversion-y in Salt Lake. HOWEVER. My enthusiasm for pink and red/paper doilies/candy/Valentine-cards-in-a-box-from-Sav-On has NOT dwindled. Hannah has joined me in my annual “Wear Pink and/or Red From February 1st Through the 14th But If That's Not Plausible, At Least On the 14th” quest. I would like to invite all readers to participate. Male readers, that might be kind of hard, but I believe in you. I think Valentine’s Day haters will come to feel the spirit of the season if they try this out.

I actually wear pink a lot, because—I don’t know why, I guess I like it, but anyway, there’s this lady at work who almost every time I wear pink, she says, “You’re certainly pink today! I’m so glad pink has come back into style. You know, for awhile it wasn’t very ‘in’.” I paid little attention to this remark the first time I heard it—but like I said, I wear pink a lot—once a week at least—and she always makes this “pink wasn’t very ‘in’” remark. I’m wondering if she’s trying to tell me nicely that pink still isn’t “in.” But I’m also wondering when this period of time was that “pink wasn’t very ‘in’.” I’ve always worn it. Did I totally miss the “pink not ‘in’” stage? Or should I just not trust her because she’s 30 years older than me and knits all of her own clothes? Just curious.

This post was long and ponderous. Sorry about that. Enjoy your Month of Love.

P.S. I have nothing against a) being 30 years older than me or b) knitting all one’s own clothes. It’s just that the pink remark is kind of weird, so I got a little defensive. Sorry, work lady.