January slipped out of the room this week, in her snow-white ball gown with its long train of holiday twinkle lights, and glancing over her shoulder with a smile. She was lovely.
Everything. . .everything. . .was viewed through the teach-me-to-number-my-days filter and the result polished the days like fine silver and filled the cup of time until it over-spilled like champagne bubbles.
Most evenings, curled in my corner of the sofa, holding hands with my aging Knight, the Husband, I would sigh contentedly eagerly anticipating the day to come.
Not for us, dear reader, the Miss Havisham gloom of stopped clocks and decaying multi-tiered wedding cakes and dust and spider-webby tomb of regret and waiting for what will not come.
February arrives in her soft pink glow of heart-shaped everything. Let us celebrate with cupcakes!
The Lord sent His Son "to give them a beautiful headdress instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit;
that they may be called oaks of righteousness,the planting of the Lord, that he may be glorified."