Column: The Januaries: This too shall pass

I think I have the Januaries – cold, bored, cranky and tired of winter.

Here we are in the depths of a Montana winter and our only hope is a groundhog that lives in New England. Talk about audacity!

The icicles hanging from the eaves of my house are so long that I’m not sure if they are stalactites or the other kind that grow from the ground up and when I turn on the lamps in my cave I notice that humans I haven’t seen since last summer are living behind their own icicle prison across the street.

The thermometer was reading minus-37 degrees the day my husband decided to talk to me about the utility bills.

“Utility bills! You mean the comforts of home!” I snarled.

I knew the mantra. If we just cut back a little on the lights and heat we could afford a trip to Hawaii next year. I figure if we turn the thermostat any further down we won’t live to see another year. The cold is hard on senior citizens I remind him. He tells me we are spending one-fifth of our fixed income on utility bills.  I tell him my grandmother would have sold her soul for electricity and natural gas.

Her day began before the sun. She was the first one up. She put kindling in the range to start the fire to warm the home, heat some water and cook breakfast. Sometimes she had to melt water to take to the cow which is where the milk for breakfast would come from.

Me, I like luxuries such as plumbing. He complains of the water bill in the summer when the automatic underground sprinklers water the lawn before I get up in the morning. I like faucets that bring warm and cold water with the turn of a wrist. And a flush toilet? When I think of grandma making that cold trip through the bare cottonwoods to the outhouse I can only imagine the cold wind sweeping through those two hole necessary houses.

Heck, I even like the garbage truck that clangs and bangs when the one-armed bandit takes away the evidence of my decadent lifestyle before the neighbors are awake.

One person’s luxury is another’s necessities. I think we could probably do without television, but I wouldn’t want to give up the computer that allows me to leave my igloo each day with online visits.  He thinks the telephone is an annoyance. Although he doesn’t complain about electric frying pans, coffee pots, crock pots and the microwave, he is certain the washer and dryer will send us to the poor house.

I try to ride out his complaints and wait until he is in bed or out of the house to turn up the furnace, because I know he too has the Januaries. There isn’t much a body can do for that disease. I try to keep a pot of soup on the stove and the ever ready tea kettle filled. He puts on long underwear and extra socks to ride his recliner from “Good Morning America” to David Letterman’s goodnight.

We will both feel better this month. Groundhogs and valentines hint of hope and love, and the electric bill will be much lower. Each year, caught up in the magic of the holidays he builds a forest of electric Christmas trees in our yard and lives in denial until January when the bill for all that extra power arrives.

Funny thing, no matter how old we get, we forget the Januaries of our life as soon as they pass and celebrate the good times with renewed faith. Hope you do to.

(Carol Holoboff is a former Libby resident who now writes her column from Great Falls).