I'm one of the few people in my sleepy little town who isn't a hunter. The first time I saw men walking down my road, shotguns over their shoulders, the former city slicker in me let out a little whimper of terror. Now we all just wear orange during hunting season...One adapts quickly to seeing strange things in rural New England.
Regardless, I think I could find it in my tree-hugging, fuzzy little heart to blow the brains out of Puxatony Phil. I'd give him something to be scared of. Something far worse than the poor grammar embodied in that last sentence or his chubby little shadow. I'd go full Clint Eastwood on his ass. "Do you feel lucky? Well do ya, Groundhog?" Just what could a .44 Magnum do to a groundhog? Hmmmm?
I shouldn't really be angry with Phil. He is, after all, merely a puppet of meteorologists who decided that we'd be having 6 more weeks of winter. Thanks, guys. The permafrost in my freaking yard and the snow once again falling from the sky weren't enough of a clue. Now you had to completely validate it with a bloody groundhog.
Do you realize that February 2nd actually marks only the halfway point of winter anyway? Ancient pagans celebrated the day as a time to start thinking about planting crops and a time when animals got up from hibernation for a quick pee break. Yay for the pagans!
I, on the other hand, have 6 more weeks of stopping leaks in my roof and breaking ice dams. I'd love to think about planting my garden, but the groundhogs would probably just eat all the damn vegetables anyway.
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LOL I live in rural Montana, where we get -15 temps (and sometimes lower). But having lived in CT for 12 years, I would say New England winters are completely worse than Montana ones (I've never had to break an ice dam here).
ReplyDeleteYou have my condolences... and I don't think I'd mind a little revenge on old Phil either.