The dawn at Punxsutawney was bright and clear, so Phil saw his shadow and predicted six more weeks of winter. That part made me happy. Unfortunately, Phil didn’t offer any guidance as to when that six weeks would start. I learned something even more illuminating while watching the broadcast this morning. Predictably, a Terrible Towel… Read More ’cause phil said.
As far as we know, Punxsutawney Phil is probably already ensconced in his stump at Gobbler’s Knob by now, ready to make his prediction tomorrow morning. It’s televised live in Pennsylvania, and I’ll be sure to haul my ass out of bed in time to watch. Memo to Phil: Cold and snowy, baby. Think cold… Read More stumped.
I wouldn’t be so freaked out by making sure everything’s in good shape for Groundhog Weekend if we were holding the event on an autumn Saturday morning outside Ohio Stadium.
If you’re a Groundhog, you might want to go to the top-secret web page.
Sorry. Getting caught up with work, dealing with hangovers, taking care of business, just being lazy. Cooking. Eating. Rocking. Rolling. Zigging. Zagging. Sleeping. Waking. Baking. And now I’m back. While Uncle Crappy was away: * Winter ended. That’s been part of my alarming lack of focus since I last posted. No more college football, and… Read More ready. go.
Uncle Crappy 