Last year at this time, Bedford was in blizzard conditions. Our Super Bowl party was postponed. Getting to work was precarious.
This year, 2012, winter is a yawn. Over seventy degrees today. The weekend might plummet to the fifties thanks to a "cold" spell. You just never know. Here's a Groundhog's Day celebratory poem I wrote last year:
Six-Week Countdown
heater groans
wallow in winter remnants
pilled sweatshirts
sinus sniffles
cough
curse
mythic groundhog
Growing up in PA, Groundhog's Day was a mythic turning point for the winter. It's ingrained in my soul and I shall read the prognostication. Then I'll sit on our patio in TX and read a book.
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