The rest of the world may well be finished with Valentine’s Day, but clearly I’m not. And since it’s still February and I’ve declared it heart month I have no qualms about sharing another vintage image – this time of Cupid.
Today I read a line from a poem and I laughed out loud and thought how perfect. Yesterday I had been commiserating with friends that I had experienced a rather disconcerting bout of anxiety; I was feeling fed up with winter and another round of snow and frigid frigid temps; and I wasn’t making what I thought was adequate progress on my to-do list. I wanted to take my grumpy self off to hibernate, if not in a cave until Spring, at least under layers of comforters and quilts.
And then today Margaret Atwood came to my rescue and made me realize what exactly was going on.
“February, month of despair,
with a skewered heart in the centre.”
Yep. I think she called it.