seasons – Jodi Rizzotto

Finally, we’ve reached the end of January, the longest month of the year.

This past month has been full of unplanned expenses from dental to house repairs. When I total it up, I spent more in January than I spent on Christmas gifts in December. February’s starting out strong though, with a major pool repair scheduled. As soon as I type this, I realize I should have no complaints. My house has not been destroyed by a wildfire or hurricane.

January smothered my creative productivity. My writing time was eaten up by phone calls, estimates, Home Depot runs, and bank transfers. It was difficult to find quiet moments to focus. Although we didn’t have snow storms, high winds whipped up my allergies and gave me brain fog. At night, I found little rest as my mind was burdened with my overflowing calendar entries.

I am extremely thankful to have the resources to deal with January’s problems. But I take a deep breath as I turn the calendar page. February is a month of love, remembered national heroes, and the Super Bowl. And for Southern California, refreshing rain.

Those who call ourselves writers often struggle to find time and energy for our craft. After all, there is no story without conflict. Some writers work full time jobs before coming home to take care of their families. Others are caretakers for their spouses or parents. Still others contend with their own health issues or past hurts.

But even when we have a January full of trials, we come back to our computers in February. While we still have breath, we write. Even when things fall apart around us.

You may argue Southern California doesn’t have seasons, but my umbrella would eyeroll if it could.

Usually Winter behaves itself nicely, not putting his feet up on the coffee table or rearranging the couch cushions. He usually arrives late and leaves early, making it possible for me to plan any number of outside gatherings and activities.

Not this year. Winter knocked on my door precisely on time. I didn’t complain because any Californian who likes a green lawn would tell you we need the rain. Needed the rain. And I have some really cute sweaters and boots I rarely have the opportunity to wear.

I like a good soaking rainstorm as much as anyone, but endless storms, week after week, began to annoy me. At least I wasn’t still teaching. I have many fond memories of plastic bridges laid over the flooded blacktop so my students and I could enter our portable classroom. You already know what children do when faced with a knee-deep puddle.

Remember the saying “If March comes in like a lion, it will go out like a lamb?” Apparently, Winter forgot. Understandable really, considering the endless storms. Not to mention the tornados we’ve experienced, a novelty in California. Of course, Northern and Central California would argue that those of us in the south have nothing to complain about except a few landslides.

And Winter brought us much-needed gifts in the form of filled reservoirs and snowcapped mountains. In return, we entertained Winter by traveling to the snow and making snowmen.

But the hour grows late, and Winter shows no sign of leaving. I yawn. I clean up the dishes. But Winter is still stretched out on my couch binge-watching Midsomer Murders. As the hostess, I balk at telling my guests to leave, but I am weary of sodden, grey days. Doesn’t Winter know I have gardening and patio work to do?

Any day now Spring will be knocking at my door, but she won’t come in until Winter leaves. She thinks he’s rude, but we all know she depends on him to prepare her way. My mind blanks out as Winter drones on about the time he flooded the Colorado River so badly he created the Salton Sea. And we all know how well that turned out.

What can you do about a house guest that will not leave?

Category: seasons

The longest month of the year

The Season that Wouldn’t Go Home