Thoughts of Spring
It’s too early for spring fever, but signs that we’ve had our fill of winter are cropping up all around.
This coming Wednesday is Groundhog Day. The little town of Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania becomes the focus of the world for one morning each year. Punxsutawney isn’t all that far from here. Easy driving distance to be honest. However, don’t look for me in the crowd. More often than not, February 2nd is a crappy, gray, cold, snowy day, and I am not a morning person. Besides, is there any doubt what the little rodent is going to predict? If he sees his shadow, six more weeks of winter. If he doesn’t, about a month and a half.
No, I look for other signs of spring.
Hubby is talking about getting his fishing license. That’s a good one. The RV show in Pittsburgh has already come and gone. I missed it, though, darn it. Last winter, I had great fun there, although I still refuse to consider owning a camper that’s nicer and bigger than my house.
The best sign of spring for me came in the mail this week. The campground where we have our camper in Confluence sent me its annual letter announcing upgrades and changes…and our bill…for 2011.
Prices went up. No surprise. And frankly, I don’t care. I’ll cut back elsewhere. The annual camp fee is the cost of my sanity. I place high value on that little piece of property where the Laurel Highlands swoop down to kiss the Youghiogheny River.
The letter contained one bit of news that I have mixed feelings about. We now have cell phone service in Confluence. Part of me enjoyed being out of touch there. Sure, I had to drive two miles to the top of the mountain to get a signal once a day, so I could check in with my mom. I guess having cell service will save us some gasoline. And it’s a bit of a comfort to know Mom can reach me if she needs me. Besides, I’ve discovered with caller ID, I can pick and choose whether to answer the phone or let it go to voicemail. Wonderful invention.
So I will write my check for our camp fee and gladly mail it off to reserve my little spot of sanity in the mountains. Until spring actually arrives, though, I’m stuck looking out my window at shades of gray and white. If that’s the case where you are, too, I offer the following photos from my archives as a brief respite from the bleak scenery of winter.
This coming Wednesday is Groundhog Day. The little town of Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania becomes the focus of the world for one morning each year. Punxsutawney isn’t all that far from here. Easy driving distance to be honest. However, don’t look for me in the crowd. More often than not, February 2nd is a crappy, gray, cold, snowy day, and I am not a morning person. Besides, is there any doubt what the little rodent is going to predict? If he sees his shadow, six more weeks of winter. If he doesn’t, about a month and a half.
No, I look for other signs of spring.
Hubby is talking about getting his fishing license. That’s a good one. The RV show in Pittsburgh has already come and gone. I missed it, though, darn it. Last winter, I had great fun there, although I still refuse to consider owning a camper that’s nicer and bigger than my house.
The best sign of spring for me came in the mail this week. The campground where we have our camper in Confluence sent me its annual letter announcing upgrades and changes…and our bill…for 2011.
Prices went up. No surprise. And frankly, I don’t care. I’ll cut back elsewhere. The annual camp fee is the cost of my sanity. I place high value on that little piece of property where the Laurel Highlands swoop down to kiss the Youghiogheny River.
The letter contained one bit of news that I have mixed feelings about. We now have cell phone service in Confluence. Part of me enjoyed being out of touch there. Sure, I had to drive two miles to the top of the mountain to get a signal once a day, so I could check in with my mom. I guess having cell service will save us some gasoline. And it’s a bit of a comfort to know Mom can reach me if she needs me. Besides, I’ve discovered with caller ID, I can pick and choose whether to answer the phone or let it go to voicemail. Wonderful invention.
So I will write my check for our camp fee and gladly mail it off to reserve my little spot of sanity in the mountains. Until spring actually arrives, though, I’m stuck looking out my window at shades of gray and white. If that’s the case where you are, too, I offer the following photos from my archives as a brief respite from the bleak scenery of winter.
Comments
Confluence is the little town where last year's Great Flood and Writer's Retreat was held...south east of Uniontown. Our camp is at the base of the Youghiogheny Dam.
I call it my writing camp. Hubby calls it his fishing camp. Either way, it's our link to sanity.