OK, February 2010, it's been nice, well, no, it really hasn't been, knowing you. See 'ya around. Or not. Here, let me help you find your things. Want me to help you into your coat? Here you go, don't forget your purse. Wouldn't want you to have to come back for anything, would we? OK, bye! Here, I'll open the door. Yeah, yeah, we should get together again, or not. OK, definitely not. Bye. So long! Adiós! Khau bulyghyz! Au revoir! Auf Wiedersehen! Gee, look at the time! My goodness, tomorrow's going to come really early. OK, bye, now! I'll never forget you. Really. Have a nice trip. Or, not. Actually, just go and if you manage to fall off a steep ledge, that's fine with me. Git. Scram. Off'a my property. Disappear. Vamoose. Good riddance to bad rubbish. Good bye you sorry excuse for a month. I'm GLAD you're only 28 days long. There's a reason they gave you fewer days than all the other months. You, February 2010, were the Worst. Month. Ever. And, now, ha! your time is up. Over. Done. Bye!
I'm a woman, a Witch, a mother, a grandmother, an eco-feminist, a gardener, a reader, a writer, and a priestess of the Great Mother Earth. Hecate appears in the
Homeric Ode to Demeter, which tells of Hades who caught Persophone
"up reluctant on his golden car and bare her away lamenting. . . . But no one, either of the deathless gods or of mortal men, heard her voice, nor yet the olive-trees bearing rich fruit: only tenderhearted Hecate, bright-coiffed, the daughter of Persaeus, heard the girl from her cave . . . ."