After last Friday’s beautiful weather, I mistakenly praised Punxatawny Phil for such a fortuitous and accurate prediction of early spring. Considering it’s my first winter North of the Mason-Dixon line and the whole Eastern seaboard has oohd and aahhd over this rodent year-in and year-out my entire life, I was hopeful that the groundhog’s forecast would indeed be reliable. I believed him. Or at least, I wanted to.
Alas, I was betrayed. Betrayed by cheerful whiskers that greeted us with good news I was all too eager to accept as fact. I guess spring time in February was just too much to expect this far North because I awoke this morning to a fresh blanket of snow and a 2 hour delay at school. After a stressful Monday managing clients and kids, that is not the news I wanted to hear at 6:30 this morning.
Next year, I’ll be more skeptical of the groundhog. Next year, I’ll be less naïve when he does or doesn’t see his shadow. Next year, I’ll be spending late February in Florida for spring training.
This transplanted Georgia peach can dream can’t she?