Stupid calendar

So I'm standing in the kitchen, eating half a turkey sandwich, as you do, and I'm staring at the magnetic calendar/whiteboard thingy that's stuck to our fridge.  It was left on our front door by the Real Estate Wizard.  He's got a name, but when you've invested in a moniker like the Real Estate Wizard, you expect other people to roll with it.

At any rate, the calendar has little pictures to go with each month -- tulips in April, a starfish on a sandy beach in August, and a snowy plains scene in December.  Here's my problem with this, and all other similarly-themed calendars: speaking as a human-type person who lives in a place with seasons, I don't need to look at the calendar in January and see MORE F@*KING SNOW.  I want to look at a picture of palm trees waving lazily in the tropical trade winds, you know?  And maybe in August, when we're all sweating our balls off because [this bit of the blog has been redacted by the Coalition for Coloradans for Upholding the Myth of Perennial Cold], I'd rather see some ice skaters or a close-up of a snowflake or something.

Dunno.  I can't be the first person to have thought of it.