February 1, 1966
Jocie Brook here reporting from Hollyhill, Kentucky. I’ll have to keep Dad from seeing that headline. He would sit me down and give me a long talk about hating any day. He’d tell me that every day was a gift from the Lord and one to be glad to face. He would say he learned how precious each day and the promise of each tomorrow was while he was serving in that submarine during World War II. Then he would quote that verse from the Bible that says something about this is the day that the Lord hath made. Let me rejoice in it. Those might not be the exact words, but you get the idea.
Dad’s right. He’s nearly always right. I am glad I woke up this morning before the sun came up to get ready for school and then slogged out through what was left of the snow a couple of days ago to catch the bus because Dad had to go in to work early. Have I ever told you how much I hate riding the bus? I’d rather ride my bike, but Aunt Love said it was too cold. I hated to admit she was right but I nearly froze waiting for the bus. My dog, Zeb, wouldn’t even come out of the garage where he sleeps to wait with me the way he usually does.
So that’s one reason I don’t care a lot about February. A good one if you ask me. It’s cold. Very cold and cloudy more days than not. Sometimes it spits snow with that piercing wind like it’s just hoping to make you miserable. And the sun seems to take a holiday here in Kentucky. “I believe I’ll just slide around up here on top of the clouds and not bother breaking through.” I’ve never suggested this to Dad but I’m thinking even the Lord isn’t too crazy about February since he didn’t give it as many days as all the other months. Thank goodness.
But okay, I admit it. The real reason I’m not too crazy about February is that Valentine’s Day is stuck right in the middle of it. I surprised you, didn’t I? What’s not to like about Valentine’s Day, you ask. It’s all about love, you say. And flowers and candy. That’s the trouble. It is all about love, and that’s not a problem when you’re down there in elementary school sending everybody in your class a Valentine, even the boy who tripped you on purpose out on the playground or made fun of your hair. You still sat down and put his name on a Valentine card and then put your name on the back. You didn’t write love or anything unless you did “like” him.
I didn’t have a boyfriend then and I don’t have a boyfriend now. I didn’t want one then and I say I don’t want one now, but sometimes maybe I wouldn’t mind a boy walking between classes with me. The right boy. Don’t tell anybody I said that. I wouldn’t want them to think I’m feeling love starved. I’m not. I’ve got plenty of people loving me. My dad. He’ll even bring home a bag of those sugar hearts so we can laugh over the silly sayings on them. And Wes, he’ll give me something goofy. Probably a heart he cut out of purple paper and wrote a silly poem on. Yes, purple, not red. Wes says hearts are all purple up on Jupiter. So I’ll have plenty to smile about.
But still it might be fun to have a boyfriend bring you a box of candy or a red rose. Some boys are fun to talk to. Especially that new kid who moved here last year. Maybe I should give Kevin a candy bar, but that’s not how it’s done.
Oh well. Maybe we’ll get a foot of snow and they’ll call off school. Then the petals will fall off the roses all those popular girls were going to get before we go back to school and their boyfriends will get hungry and eat up all the candy themselves. How romantic, right?
The best thing is that February will be half over after Valentine’s Day and maybe I’ll like the last couple of weeks.
How about you? Do you like February?