Will the Cruelest Month Please Stand Up? And Then Go Away?

          T.S. Eliot said that April is the cruelest month. He makes a pretty good case: "breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire."

          For sheer gully-dirt mean, however, you want to go with January. The pretty snows of December are January's dirty slush. The wind is full of knives. The January sun shines bright but refuses to warm anything it touches. Hats and mittens go missing in January and when you attempt to buy replacements, you find yourself confronted with  beach wear as far as the eye can see, the seasonally useful clothing having been packed away until July, when you will need some beach wear and go shopping to find only winter hats and mittens by the acre. (This last is not entirely January's fault, but I'm blaming it anyway.)

         So I'm giving you a little something to brighten up your January. Hope it helps with the mitten situation.

This is a detail of a stained-glass panel from the Cluny Museum in Paris.