Happy Groundhog Day
The verdict is in: six more weeks of winter. The groundhog closest to me, Wiarton Willie, saw his shadow. And so did his counterparts Shubenacadie Sam and Punxsutawney Phil. So it’s unanimous.
Sigh.
Somehow I’m not surprised. I got stuck in my driveway on Friday for the second time this year. The power went out this morning. And so it goes.
But back to groundhogs.
When I was little I called groundhogs “twitchy.” As in they weren’t groundhogs, they were twitchies. I grew up in the middle of a field, the back section of which was filled with asparagus someone had planted at one time but then grew up “wild” year after year. (Feral asparagus? Now there’s something to ponder.) Needless to say, that field of asparagus was Groundhog Heaven!!!
But anyway, one day a groundhog came right up to the back of the house and looked in the window. I stood there watching its whiskers twitching, and I said “Twitchy!” (According to my parents; my memory’s not that good.) So ever after at our house, all groundhogs were called Twitchy. If I saw one out in the field I’d yell “Twitchy!” and Dad would go get his pellet rifle. He rarely connected (sorry, Dad). Yeah, this was the 70s way out in the boonies. You had to be there.
But while I’m thinking groundhogs, check out The Groundhog Day Book of Facts and Fun by Wendie Old.
May it help me remember we shouldn’t shoot the messenger.
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