“November is the most disagreeable month in the whole year," said Margaret, standing at the window one dull afternoon, looking out at the frostbitten garden.
Nearly ever fall, I re-read Little Women. There's something comforting in seeing the March sisters grow up again and again, and I always find a part of the book that I hadn't quite appreciated fully before.
But this part--the part where Meg hates on November--has always bothered me. November is one of my favorite months. Why? Well, election day, the weather (not so cold that you're sick of it), Thanksgiving, after-Thanksgiving-preparing-for-Christmas, mulled cider, and scarves. I mean, really--that's most of the good stuff in life right there.