I told HoneyBunch that I was going to attempt writing a blog every day for one month. Some of my writer friends attempt it throughout the year and I wanted to try it also.
Being the slouch that I am, I chose February, the shortest month of the year, thinking I was being a smarty pants.
Wouldn’t you know it, this is leap year, and February has 29 days.
I told HoneyBunch I was going to write 29 entries about “love” (cue: Barry White music in the background), but HB wasn’t listening. He was more interested in leap year.
When did we start counting leap year? When was the first leap year? Do all countries around the globe have a leap year?
He totally killed the romantic mood I was trying to explain and I stuttered to answer his questions. (Stop playing Can’t Get Enough of You Baby. Cue: Theme to Close Encounters of the Third Kind)
“Stop interrupting me.” I say.
“But your readers will ask.”
“This wasn’t the direction I was going with my 29 days.”
“What could you possibly have to say about love that would take 29 days?”
“Hide and watch, HoneyBunch. Hide and watch.”