Happy New Year!

Two miserable months with nothing special about them: January and February. Wet snow, cold feet, sniffles. The magic of the first snow is long gone.

The Romans had a good idea: Forget the wretched winter months and start anew when things are looking up. Just forget them; don’t even give them a name. Everything that has a name exists, so if you don’t name it, then you can pretend it’s not there. End the year with December and start up again in March.

“December” comes from a word that means “tenth,” as in tenth month. If you remove those two at the start, there are only ten. “November” equally means “nine,” while “October” is “eight,” and “September” is “seven.” July and August are Roman leaders; March was for the god of war. I’m too lazy to check on April, May and June.

So, we have The Miserables. December ends and we have a 59 or 60 day nameless period also known as The Miserables. Wolves howl in the night, children’s noses run, the populace walk through the streets crying, “Alas! Alas!” and people are so downcast they are even unable to conceive progeny like unto themselves.

Then the temperatures begin to rise; the sun comes up earlier, retires to its bed later. The snow retreats and feet dry out, as do children’s noses. Parents lock their bedroom doors and do not answer when their youngsters knock and say, “Mommy, Daddy, what are you doing in there? Why are you giggling like that?”