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February: short, brutish and outtahere

February 28, 2011

When British philosopher Thomas Hobbes wrote in 1651 that life is “solitary,

poor, nasty, brutish and short”, he must have had February in mind.  Even

when it’s longer, it’s shorter than the other months; and it tends to overcom-

pensate with meanness.  Can a span of time suffer from Napoleon complex?

 

Yes.  I have the statistics to prove it.   We’ve had 20 inches of snow and ten

inches of rain on the farm these past four weeks.  Temperatures have dipped

to -12 C. (10 F.) recently, freezing the lower spring that feeds our micro-hydro

system and domestic water supply.  We’re getting about half effort from them.

Solar’s not helping much because of the snow.

 

I can’t do much outside due to the weather and hand injury.  Cabin fever has

set in for Slinkee.  No matter how often I explain it to her, she cannot or will

not accept my reasoning.  Roameo, bless his heart, is quite content to stay

curled up by the woodstove.

 

Tomorrow brings the new month, the one that spawns spring, my favourite

season.  Rebirth, renewal, fresh starts, egg symbolism and all that.  I know I’ll

make it, I just have to lay low.

 

That’s easier than usual.  My body is tired from the surgery Saturday, and the

seriousness of what happened is sinking in.  I lost about 10% of my blood and

went into shock.

 

Turns out I had a lot of misconceptions about shock.  I always thought it was

relaxing, even comforting.  Nope.  It was the scariest part of the entire venture.

Breathing became a real chore.  As I faded I could hear the edge in the doctor’s

voice while she struggled to staunch my bleeding and stitch me up.   I never

passed out, though.  I rallied when my sweetie got there.

 

While Jude and I were off island for the surgery, several neighbours called to

offer help with cutting firewood, shoveling snow, whatever was needed.  Two

of them, Chris and Nina, were kind enough to comment that I probably

shouldn’t be allowed near power tools or scissors.  Other commenters sug-

gested that I might need grounding (Kate), that I might be seeking attention

(Joan) and that I might be willing to cut off a leg to look more like a pirate

(Rosie).

 

I appreciate the concern and observations, everyone.  I’d like to answer each

one individually, but I need to go nap now.  I’ll see you in March tomorrow.

I plan to post about why I wear an eyepatch.  Don’t worry.  It’s an old wound.

 


 


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