The long short month

It seems February always moves this way for me... though it is the shortest month of the year, I feel that it inches along. In our elementary school music classes, our teacher Mr. Hobaugh annually played a dreary number composed by Franz Joseph Haydn to coincide with President's Day, noting that February is a tough month to get through, as spring has not yet arrived, and winter is wearing out its welcome. He matched the classical music with dreary slides, which never quite helped snap us out of the winter doldrums.
After a good bout of gray and cold, I am longing for a few simple things, like riding my bike free of jacket and mittens, and getting into my car without a tense body, impatiently waiting for the heat to kick in. I know my Minnesota readers are probably scoffing at my Kentucky wimpiness, but I figure that if we're not going to have much snow, what's the point of cold? And now my Virginia readers are probably scoffing at my request for snow, as they've received historical proportions of the white stuff.
But despite my complaints, we are coming off of a wonderful weekend, where my attention was largely diverted from the weather to spending time with my in-laws. They came to check up on us, and the growing belly that houses their first grandchild. We spent a good deal of time relaxing in the Crump house, but also saw an exciting Hilltopper men's basketball game and got together with some folks for a Superbowl viewing. They left this morning as Josh and I bundled up and mounted our bikes to head to work, and headed back south to Georgia. We're looking forward to the next visit, when the house will be just a tad more crowded, and the spring weather is sure to be in full force.