February 3, 2021
Yesterday was Groundhog Day.
If you’re a long-time reader of these essays, you know that Groundhog Day has
always been an important day here in the Ashbury household.
The importance began years ago
because both David and our firstborn had careers spent outdoors. Our son went
to work with his dad when he was seventeen, and while they worked at the same
quarry for only about six years, he went on to work at other open pit mines in
the area closest to where he lives, a city about thirty-five minutes away from
us. And while his dad has long since retired, he still works outside.
My husband awoke yesterday morning
and on his way to the coffee pot, stopped and looked out the front door. “What’s
with the sun? There’s not supposed to be sun today! Where are my clouds?”
He was quite serious, of
course. His fervent desire was for no sun yesterday, so that no groundhog would
see his shadow and predict a longer winter.
He no longer works outside and
in my point of view, that would be a good thing. But he quite loved working in
the open air every day. Yes, there were days during his nearly forty years at
the quarry that were difficult—be it from bitter cold, blistering heat, or
torrential downpours.
But he loved being outside and
now that he’s retired, he misses that. He misses spending most of his day out
in the open air with no walls around him. In the good weather, he often can be
found out on the porch or sitting in the back yard. He’ll just sit and
ruminate, or he’ll read. He does what yard work he can. COPD plays a part in how
much, of course. But he’s learned to live with working in smaller stints and
resting, and reading, in between.
Even now that it’s winter, if
the day is sunny out, he’s apt to take some porch time after walking our two
dogs, simply to sit with his coffee and just…be outside. I would never do that,
myself, because it’s harder than you would believe to prevent cold drafts
hitting my arthritic legs and making them scream. But if it makes him happy to
sit out, then I say, he should go for it.
At the end of the day, my
husband’s devotion to the observance of Groundhog Day is a habit that he doesn’t
see any reason to break. And while this winter hasn’t seemed as long as some we’ve
known, we’ll both be cheered when the green shoots appear and the sky evolves from
it’s current pale blue to a slightly deeper, more spring-like hue.
Because he was looking so sad
yesterday morning, fearing the worst from the furry meteorologists, I went
online to search out the news from the weather prognosticating rodents. I culled
the results from five groundhogs, three Canadian and two American. The verdict
is in, and while not unanimous, it’s a solid four out of five.
Shubenacadie Sam from Nova
Scotia says it’s going to be an early spring. Quebec’s Fred La Marmotte also
predicts an early exit for winter. Wiarton Willie, from right here in Ontario,
was, it’s reported, nowhere to be found. I saw no explanation for his absence, but his
keepers went back to the way things, apparently, used to be done. They tossed a
fur hat into the air and it landed in such a way that they reported the
decision was an early spring.
I can’t make this stuff up,
folks.
Staten Island Chuck agreed
with his Canadian colleagues in proclaiming we’d soon be all done with this
cold season. Only Punxsutawney Phil, down there in Pennsylvania, of the five groundhogs
called for a longer winter.
So, four out of five groundhogs
say it will be an early spring. I don’t know how you feel about the subject,
but I’m not arguing with such sound, clinical proof. Early spring it is!
Meanwhile, here in the Ashbury
household, we’re looking forward to the spring. We’ve been under a stay-at-home
order in Ontario since the day after Christmas. Not that it bothers the two of us,
necessarily. I’ve really gotten the hang of this hermit life, but regardless of
that fact, spring will bring fresh, warmer air and new beginnings and little
green shoots promising pretty petals.
And one more thing that spring
will bring to the Ashbury household this year? We’re supposed to get that brand
new freezer that we ordered and paid for the first week of June last year. It’s
supposed to be delivered around the end of March.
Or so they say.
Love,
Morgan
http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury
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