It's coming...eventually. In spite of ongoing gales and persistent sleet, there are signs of hope if I look hard enough. Just this morning I was admiring my spunky little heirloom garlic tops poking through the snow (that has yet to melt from the storm we had here a week and a half ago). They are a rare but apparently hardy Polish variety that I planted a few months back in my experimental backyard plot in honor of the Polish heritage on my mom's side of the family. (Bet you didn't know I was half Polish. "That would explain the jokes.")
Spring is coming, or so they say. Earlier this week, I was overjoyed to hear that Phil the Groundhog did *not* see his shadow -- an odd but long-standing folk tradition that many believe indicates winter will be ending sooner than later. Yes, in this modern age where technology is king and paganism is scorned, we look to a rodent for our weather forecast. I wonder if there's a groundhog iPhone app. Probably. (You just checked for one, didn't you?) I should mention that Phil has a better track record than my morning weather reporter, Matt McClesky, who led me out of doors without nearly enough warm layers the other day. I'm hopeful that Phil is right again and this ungodly long and unusually cold DC winter ends before too much longer. I can't take much more of this biking over sheets of ice every 20 feet on the 10-mile ride to work every day.
Come on, spring, hurry up and get here!
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
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