Ground Hog's Day has just passed. As it did, I found I didn't care whether or not Puxatawny Phil saw his shadow. Not this year.
The last few winters have been extreme enough to cause me to have a definite preferred outcome. So sick was I of cold and snow and ice, I longed for some sign of the coming spring. Phil's traditional predicted, like the forsythia and quince budding in the yard and the first robin of spring were things I looked forward to with great anticipation.
A brutally long, hot summer caused me to expect yet another long, cold winter would follow. So far, this winter has been quite the contrary. The gloves and hats and mittens my kiddos got for Christmas have not much been needed. The snowman kits we made for friends and family remain unused.
All this to say, this winter has been so mild that I am ok either way. Six more weeks of the pleasant temperatures we’ve experienced the past weeks, are just fine with me. Should Spring arrive ahead of schedule this year, I am fine with that, too.
