CHANNILLO

February 29th
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“I hate this day,” said Linda as she un-wound her scarf from her face. It was freezing outside.

Ireland doesn’t really “do” snow, our climate is too damp and most of us live too close to the sea, but wow we are really good at damp cold. My bike had skidded on three patches of black ice on the cycle to work causing me to curse and my heart to thump. My hands had nearly frozen to the handlebars despite my heaviest wool gloves.

“I know, the weather is awful.”

“Not that.” She paused in unbuttoning her winter coat. “Well, that too. No, I hate the 29th of February.”

“It’s just another day, an extra day every four years.”

“You’ll see.” She dumped her coat on her chair and headed off to make her fir...

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