February Fashion

Monday is February 1st. I've always thought of February as a romantic month. Maybe due to Valentine's Day being smack in the middle of it, maybe because my mother has always turned another year older on that very first day of the month, or maybe I somehow find the spelling of this particular one quite fascinating. Whatever the cause, February is just that sort of month. This being the case, I have decided to make *this* particular February a rather unique one.

This is all probably more because I'm trying to avoid being bored out of my mind for the next 27 days, but then again, what is life but one hurtle after another, sculpted into perfection so that something, rather than nothing, can be made of it? Precisely.

Before next month is up, I will be on a bus, excitedly making my way towards Mexico (yes. again.) to be involved in one of the most stupendous groups we've ever had visit. I expect our productivity level to stay above average, despite all the fun I shall be having bugging two members of the group in particular. 27 (I guess it's really only 26, actually) days is a really long time to be looking forward to much goings on, when you're currently placed in a very quiet house with an elderly personage (though, quite deaf) and asked to rest. Thus, February: Old Fashion Month was born.

I think it's important to note that I am, indeed, living in the house of a deceased woman who, despite adjusting to the United States very well after several years, never was really able to forget what it was like back home. Home for her being palm trees, ocean water for as far as the eye can see, crocodiles in the swimming hole, snakes in the outhouse rafters and typewriters for translation work. I envy her children, my mother included, their upbringing. But since I was not bestowed the gift of such a childhood, I will now take the opportunity to find things around this silent, dusty house and create for myself an illusion of something (whatever it is) that feeds my desperate need for an outlet for my creativity (or lack thereof), energy and 24 hours of unscheduled time.

However ungrateful I sound, ignore that. I had the option to return to Mexico today, and I turned it down. My place is here, doing my best to bring some comfort to my grieving grandfather as he learns to cope with the absence of a dearly beloved wife. Having said that, I shall now proceed to bore you with all the exciting tidbits I have gathered since deciding what February shall behold.

First of all, a typewriter. Every word that thinks it has a right to come out of me within the next several weeks shall come out on my great aunt's non-electric typewriter. It's gorgeous and I have to smile every time I come into my room and see it, sitting in all it's white, shiny glory on the desk my grandfather helped me move into the corner by the window.

My grandfather also offered me the use of my grandmother's old sewing machine. Now, I'm not sure, seeing as how I've not laid eyes on it yet, whether he meant 'old' as in... ancient. Or old as in, she doesn't use it any more. >.> But, anyway. That's unimportant. I shall create an article of clothing (preferably wearable) on this old sewing machine even if it kills me.

I, being the ridiculously whimsical girl that I am, decided several days ago that I want donuts. Donuts aren't all that hard to make, so long as you've got lots of flour and sugar and either a working oven or a huge vat of oil. I, being on a gluten- *and* sugar-free diet, have neither of the first two things and only one of the second two things. So, with my trusty oven, I will create donuts that are not only gluten- and sugar-free, but also somewhat edible. And I will continue to try until I either succeed, or run out of rice flour.

Letters have always held a certain appeal for me. Getting mail is probably one of the most exciting things that ever happen to me. So I have decided that I will refuse to write emails (or at least mostly. I'll probably have to communicate with my father some, due to his insistence on putting off my FAFSA until the last possible moment). And if I can't find anyone to send letters to, I will simply write them anyway and not send them. Of course, these letters must and will be written under candle light.

I've never given anyone a Valentine. When we were younger, my sister tried coaxing me into helping her cut out little red and pink hearts to paste onto white construction paper and give, gooey and sticky, to my mother. I can't remember ever relenting to doing this, and if I did, it was probably because my sister is really good at manipulation (and if that doesn't work, bribes). This year, though, I shall fabricate an extraordinary Valentine. And if I find anyone worthy of it, I might even give it away. (Maybe even to a boy. =O )

When was the last time you jump roped? Jumping rope used to be one of my very favorite things to do as a kid. I'd go outside, dragging two or more of my many siblings with me, hand one side of the rope to one child and the other to another and jump until my legs gave out (or, more likely, another sibling insisted on getting a turn). I haven't jumped rope in years. Mainly because of my health, but also because I got too tall for any of the jump ropes we'd been given and after my older siblings went off to college, it was harder to convince the younger ones to hold the ends for me. I'll probably give myself a heart attack trying, but an attempt at jump roping shall be had.

Of course, my music selection will be limited to the ancient CD's I found in my grandmother's media collection, plus a few classical ones I've gathered over the years and my own bangings on Grandfather's out-of-tune piano. I suppose my dream of using a record playing will have to remain just that - a dream. My usage of the computer will be limited as well, obviously, though I'm not sure how much. Having a shiny black laptop sitting next to an old typewriter really takes away from the romanticity of it all. Is that even a word? Anyway. You get the point.

I am of the opinion that everyone should join me, but maybe they'd miss technology too much. S'a pity, really. Our great grandparents seemed to do perfectly fine without most of the things we deem necessary today. Not that I don't think the sippy cup is a marvelous invention, but somehow, I'm not quite sure how, but somehow they made due, quenching the thirst of their babes without it.

Happy February 2010, mi chiquillos.