Happy Groundhog Day


Usually by early February I’m so stinking sick of winter, I’m ready to shoot the darned varmint that wants to tell me I have to endure six more weeks of it. OR, on the rare instance when he says it’ll be an early spring, I want to shoot the darned varmint because I know it’s a lie.

Yes, if he sees his shadow we have six more weeks of winter. If he doesn’t, about a month and a half. That’s just the way it is.

This year, however, I’m feeling more kindly toward the old rodent. Yesterday and the day before we almost hit sixty degrees. Six more weeks of that? Okay. I’ll take it. Today is a little chilly at 39 degrees. But that’s not bad. There’s no snow. No ice. Yeah, I can definitely live with it.

I know, I know. There are those people who LIKE cold weather. They like skiing and sledding and all that cold weather sport stuff. I am not one of them. You guys had last winter to enjoy yourselves. I’m laying claim to this one.

Plus it is only early February. Old Man Winter still has plenty of time to slap us all upside our heads. Remember the big St. Patrick’s Day Blizzard of 1993? I have pictures of Hubby snow shoeing in our front yard. Actually, I have pictures of Hubby falling OFF his snow shoes in our front yard, but let’s not get picky. My point is we may still get hammered.

But each day that I don’t have to shovel the driveway or scrape the car or scatter salt on the sidewalk is one day closer to spring.

It’s only six more weeks away. 

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