We all know February only has twenty-eight days or twenty-nine if the calendar year is divisible by the number four. 2019? No. 2020? Yes, it is.
Although the month only has four weeks to it, it can seem to be the longest month. Valentine’s Day was two weeks ago, it’s a long way to St. Paddy’s Day, and dang if it isn’t still snowing!
I know, we need the snow pack for a good summer with plenty of water. I gave up my green lawn years ago, and my native plants don’t need that much, anyway. But it is nice to see the creeks and rivers full. The Russian River is a bit too full, if you ask the folks in Guerneville.
I am still in wool sweaters and double pants on cold days when the heat is off and the contractor is hammering away in my kitchen. He wanted to push my project back to summer. I didn’t want to ruin my summer having construction done. Better to do it in the dreary days of winter, even if it is cold.
I just did my sister’s taxes today, and darned if she doesn’t have to pay this year. I took out too much of her annuity, which counts as income. Who knew? As they say when there’s nothing you can do about it, it is what it is.
Income taxes being paid in the winter makes a lot of sense. We’re already locked inside and grumpy Why not add taxes to the equation? We might as well have our root canals and colonoscopies now, too.
I’m not really complaining. I went to a fun exercise class today and got Sis’s taxes done for free, unlike Turbo Tax which said it was free, but then it wasn’t. It was $140.00 last year to file one federal and two state returns with Turbo Tell a Lie Tax.
Tonight I get to sit at home and be a couch potato, which can be fun after a long cold day. I can watch mindless TV, eat my weird no-kitchen dinner, and gather my thoughts. A warm dog on my lap rounds out the evening.
I need to remind myself that anything worth having is worth waiting for, like a baby or a book or a new kitchen. I will be so happy when it’s finished and I don’t have to look at pressed board cabinets and a broken oven cabinet and almond tile with brown grout. I’ll have an island with one wall down and the space open to the living room.
I will be free to go out and have a fun summer, dancing it up and hearing good music.
I just remembered. This was the winter I was supposed to write my uncle’s World War II story that he didn’t write because he never came back. Maybe I will write it in my new kitchen.