As much as I love my homeland, I will openly admit that Minnesota winters tend to suck. In Minnesota you can get a bit of everything that passes for winter weather on the entire planet from late October through April. As Wikipedia points out, “Snow is the main form of precipitation, but freezing rain, ice, sleet and, occasionally, rain are all possible during the winter months. Common storm systems include Alberta Clippers a.k.a, Panhandle Hooks, some of which evolve into blizzards; temperatures as low as -60F (-51C) have occurred during Minnesota winters.” I can tell you that we’ve had as much as 18 inches of snow on Halloween. But February holds some of the worst weather records for cold and snow, both of which are sent our way compliments of Canada.

The Alberta Clippers, (also called Saskatchewan Screamers and Manitoba Maulers) come shrieking out of western Canada. They are born in the North Pacific and drop the majority of their moisture over the Canadian Rockies, but that doesn’t make them welcome guests. Even dry driven snow can blind you, either walking or driving. Panhandle Hooks mentioned above are rare storms sent north from Texas. They get their name from the panhandles of Texas and Oklahoma where they usually take their northly turn and aim for the Upper Midwest. These rough, brawny cowboys are typically loaded with moisture from the Gulf of Mexico. The Panhandlers bring along a wintery conglomeration of winter precipitation. Thunder snow storms are not extraordinary coming from these monsters. Minnesota received 27 inches of snow during the 1975 Panhandle. That was in January, but it could have happened in February.

Why, you might ask and reasonable so, am I so enamored of the month of February, which I honestly called the God-forsaken Month? Well, February has some neat things going for it. First of all is its name. Since we inherited our identities for the months, among many other things, from the Romans we could expect all our months to have some god’s name. You know. January was assigned its name in honor of the god Janus, that two-faced guy looking both forward and back. March belongs to Mars, the god of War. May (Maia in Latin) is the goddess of Spring, so she gets May and its flowers. June is the goddess Juno’s month. Juno is the head goddess, wife of Jupiter, head honcho, and the goddess of marriage. Therefore, June has been the chosen month for wedding since the-gods-know-when. July is Julius Caesar’s very own month. Of course, he considered himself a god and figured it was his due to have a month named after him. August used to be Sextilis, the sixth month. But Augustus carried on Julius’s calendar reforms and named this one for himself.

September means “the seventh month.” October is number eight. November is ninth. And December is the tenth month. They wound up being the final four when the Emperors took the last two months away to rename them for themselves. Since I despise the summer heat, the Emperors can have their months. I sure as heck don’t want them.

Okay, there are two months left out of this discussion. One is April, a sweet month, unless you live in Minnesota. April was named for the Greek goddess of love and beauty, Aphrodite. As Gertrude Wister wisely said, “The flowers of late winter and early spring occupy places in our hearts well out of proportion to their size.” Gert knew what she was talking about. She was an avid gardener back in the days when gardening was a spiritual experience.

Last but not least, (Oops. It is the least. Sorry.) is February. The Native Americans of the north and eastern parts of the United States had terms for each month also. They called them moons, giving each full moon an appropriate title. For example, January was Cold Moon, Snow Moon or Wolf Moon. March was Worm Moon because the earth was warming and the worms were beginning to wiggle. April was Pink Moon for the phlox and the pink herb mosses pushing their ways upward. May was Flower Moon and June was Strawberry Moon. February, naturally, was called Full Snow Moon, Hunger Moon, and probably, Crummy Hunting Moon. However, the Native People of the Plains, the Lakota Sioux, characterized February as the Moon of Popping Trees – Cannapopa Wi. They saw the plains trees starting their buds and knew that good weather was on its way.

So, let’s take a look at what the Roman’s considered important about February. First off, it was named for a festival, a purification feast, celebrated each February. The name comes from the Latin, Februa, meaning “religious purification.” The entire month was set aside for cleansing. Houses got cleaned from top to bottom. Clothes and bedding were washed. The streets were scrubbed. All this happened because February was once the final month in the year and the Romans were big on starting out the new year out neat as a pin.

As a matter of fact, the second half of February in ancient Rome was one ritual celebration after the other. On the 15th the Lupercalia was held. An ancient and highly honored holiday, the Lupercalia was given over to rituals to purify the city of Rome and for fertility among its people. One of the odder purification rituals on this special day was having puppies rubbed all over one’s body. Puppies apparently have extra good vibes.

[An interesting side note: Madame Helena Blavatsky, the intriguing mystic and founder of Theosophy, once while staying in New York City, had a terrible infection in her right leg. Rather than go to an unknown doctor back then (1875), she requested a young white dog be brought to her, laid upon her throbbing leg and allowed to sleep there all night. It was done. By morning, she was pain-free and the infection was on its way out. Take this for what it’s worth. Perhaps the old Romans had the correct idea with the puppy-rubbing thing.]

From February 13th to the 21st Parentalia carried on. This was a time to propitiate the ancestors, the glorious dead. Sort of like All Saints’ Day in Mexico. (El Dia de los Muertos), offerings of food and shelter were given to the divine and powerful dead. Particularly on February 21st the dead were honored as part of the overall purification ceremonials. Once the departed were given their due, the party could get on again. The rest of February was spent calling dauntlessly upon the goddess of childbirth, Lucina.

Allegedly, when the Church began refurbishing the ancient Roman rituals and boisterous celebrations for use in the calendar, the clergy didn’t believe a word on the subject of Roman purification. They knew the old Romans and purity, as the Church envisioned it, had not been Rome’s strong point. Nevertheless, the young people wanted a day to honor lovers. Saint Valentine was handed the job. No one is certain who Valentine actually was. Some say he belonged to the priesthood and refused to honor a Papal order in which the Pope denied marriage to young men headed for the military. Single men supposedly made top-notch soldiers while married men worried about wife and family back home instead of meditating upon the martial arts. It’s said that Valentine married the young men in his care despite the Pope, thereby making himself the champion of lovers.

Another thing about February comes to mind. I was born on the 25th of the month. On just about every one of my birthdays, my dad regularly recited the story of walking to the hospital in downtown Minneapolis in minus 25 degree weather at night to meet his firstborn. I tell you, Minnesotans are tough.

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About the author Cate Lane: Born in Minnesota and raised a temperate progressive, I was carried off to Texas 10 years ago by the tsunami that was my husband's retirement. Texas is not Minnesota, not by a long shot. However, I hear that Minnesota isn't Minnesota anymore either.

Writing was always my first choice in life. I began writing at the age of 8, small books about pioneers heading west. Little did I know then that I would be living in the most "western" of all the states, Texas. No one told the Texans that they are simply Southerners who, like Bugs Bunny, took a wrong turn at Albuquerque and wound up here.

I am sneaking up on 70 years of age and now own a vast store of useless knowledge. Happy to share any or all of it with you all.

Email: CthlnLn@aol.com

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