I pledge allegiance to my new favored nation — HIBER — and to the repose for which it stands, or simply hide beneath warm blankets of comfort as the ravaging storms of winter take their toll from the brave hearts who challenge the fearful threats of cold, ice and snow. If the powerful bear with his big and warm fur coat can do it, why oh why can’t I?

Beneath the glow of the still-standing Christmas tree still ablaze with all of its lights, ornaments, surrounding angels and shepherds, I dare to peek out to see that the figurines in the house are still on display in the small snow-covered village, while in the great beyond, fresh snow continues to cover and recover the real trees, the ground and the frozen lake.

Now, well into the second month of a “new” year, it doesn’t make too much sense, even for me, to continue to refer to the “new” year, after December has already turned into January, which has itself turned into February and the football season has passed with the great Super Bowl game. For heaven’s sake, even Groundhog Day has come and gone. We already have plunged into the month of my brother Jack’s birthday, as well as Lincoln’s, Washington’s and the added-on President’s Day and now into the somber season of Lent, starting with Ash Wednesday.

In just one more month we will be celebrating the return of Daylight Saving Time,
St. Patrick’s Day, the First Day of Spring, The first birthday of Torianne Hurst, my now-walking granddaughter, Good Friday and the joy of Easter Sunday.

So why are we hanging onto the Christmas season for so long? Why don’t we just let go?
My dear wife, Mary Christmas, explains that not all of the expected visitors have rescheduled their often-postponed Christmas holiday visits. The last of these now seems to have found its place on the calendar any day now. When it does take place, we will then pack up the Santas, sleighs, angels, stables and livestock, and replace the collection of Christmas Holiday CDs with the now kind-of-dusty collection of everyday music.

With only my nose extended beyond the blankets it is difficult to see when that time may come. It requires a supreme act of faith to believe that beyond the fireplace there does exist a land of open windows, green landscape and flowing water. Back to my favorite winter sport, rolling over under the covers in bed ... again ... and again and again with no shame for lack of ambition and industry. I have tried that route before. Enjoy the warmth of peace, and joy be with us all.

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