Game On, Phil! Game On!

Once again, we awoke to another big fat snow. Well, maybe not big and fat to people in Michigan or North Dakota, but big and fat to us. Another three inches of El Nino’s wet, gloppy sense of humor. It was beautiful, I’ll give it that, but I’m over the snow now. It can stop any time. It may be pretty, but one of the reasons I live in this part of the country, aside from family and my job, is because our winters are somewhat mild. We’re used to Snow Light around here. One good snow of about two or three inches a season, just enough to boost the bread and milk industries, and we’re done until the next year. We like it that way.

Jiminy Cricket! We’ve had three really good snows in the last couple of weeks, and we may not be done. While I’m not superstitious, I have found that the Farmer’s Almanac is usually pretty good at predicting our weather. Hubby’s been telling me for weeks that the Almanac is forecasting snow for us throughout February and March. I let it go in one ear and out the other until Sunday night when I saw the local meteorologists predicting snow AGAIN and finally ran to the bathroom to dig out the Almanac and read it for myself (because I’m stubborn that way). There it was in black and white, just as plain as could be. Snow, snow, snow for the next several weeks. And to add insult to injury, that stinkin’ groundhog, whose name I refuse to say, saw his shadow. Now, why didn’t they just leave him in his hole and give a little hope to all of us summer babies? After all, ignorance is comfortable.

I’ve always thought he was cute, but not any more. I’m done with that groundhog. If six more weeks of winter weather is the best he can do, I’m all for takin’ him out. It’s over dude. We’re breakin' up, and I’m keepin’ the ring. Don’t come to Kentucky unless you’re willin’ to run. Not only do we not do snow around here, we all pack heat. We like it that way.