February first 007 Dozen second post

February

This is the month of gray incarnate
when the wind rubs against you like
a wet dog, whining for kindness
and smelling of grief grown cold.
Lift your heart and welcome the feast
of the Bishop who donated dowries
so poor maidens could marry
and love could shine bright again.
Valentine’s Day is single sequin in the
soggy grey felt of February.

This year, February is starting out cold, clear, and hard as a diamond. Usually, it's one of the moldiest months of the year. If I can survive February, the rest of the year is pure jam. There were years when I was single and the season for lovers would roll around and I wanted to take a machine gun and tattoo my name across every florist and Hallmark store in town. Yet even when I was wroth with being left out, I envied the sentiment. So, sweetest sentiments to one and all. Be your OWN Valentine! Treat yourself the way you want to be treated. You can't love others till you learn how to love yourself.

Yesterday Itossed the stash and pulled out some yarns for the farceeing hat. I'm letting possible patterns swarm through my head. Meanwhile, I found some more hand-dyed rayon and a skein of ultra-soft eyelash by Sensations, named, "Beautiful."

So while I pondered patterns for the farceeing hat, chemo caps for kids seemed like the proper thing to knit. Yes, they are very girly. And oh so soft! The one on the right got the extra fringe on the side just because it seemed a saucy sort of hat. The fringe could also be worn to the back like a pony tail. The caps knitted up very fast on my beloved size 10 nylon Susan Bates circs. I knit back and forth, then just whip-stitched the seam. I figure, if I can't see the stitches well enough to mattress stitch the seam, no one will be able to see ithat I didn't.

As for life in this floating world, this dream within a dream, Candy Kitty just spent half an hour staring intently at the window. She was watching the reflections of the shadows of the birds at the feeder. If she had turned her head 90 degrees, she could have watched the actual birds. How often have I gone haring off after the reflection of the shadow of something real? How can I learn the difference? Hmmm - well, if it doesn't squawk when you catch it, that might be a clue. Do dreams squawk? No, dreams are just for chasing. When you catch them, they become realities. I'd better stop before I become completely entangled in metaphor. Happy February!