Punxsutawney Dreaming

I know a bad day when I’m having one. But I won’t allow this space to
become cluttered with lamentations and day-to-day annoyances. Everyone’s
got plentyHappy Groundhog's Day
enough of that, and while sharing does lend some relief, EWM must not become dark and crabby. I’m trying not to be bothered by the echo and aftereffect of the Super Bowl halftime show. We watched the game with a few friends. One friend is the minister from our church. Don’t worry. It’s a hip, progressive,
contemporary church–multi-denominational with a strong message of peace, so we got to watch the rest of the game without too much hellfire and damnation about sins of the flesh: in case you missed it, Justin Timberlake tore Janet Jackson’s costume-brazier. We all looked at each other and asked, “What was
that?”. Phillip, with his twelve-year-old critical filters for
defining pop culture incidents, savored it more than the rest of us.

I should probably go to sleep instead of blogging into a stupor. Today
was not a snow day. No snowbound writing retreat. No quiet, peaceful
flakiness to put off usual Monday anxieties. I’ve been wondering–as I
paced through another workday–how bad a weather predictor must be to earn a
reprimand. I mean, I know it’s the Midwest. I know the weather isn’t
easy to predict. But they (name your forecaster, your channel, your fancy Doppler
radar system) have all of the technology foretelling the pressures and
humidities. On Friday, they promised 10-18 inches of snow. We got
two inches. Feels like fraud, since our first-Monday-of-the-new-month
staff meeting (a two hour drone about recruiting…ugh!) was not cancelled. Here I go again, whining about workaday life. Promised I wouldn’t. Beg pardon.


  1. I love the little groundhog picture!

    yes, I guess Phil saw his shadow. Frankly, I like winter, and good for that because we will have more snow starting tomorrow.

    Not to worry about whining in your blog, we all do it. It’s the nature of the beast. Heh.

  2. I usually like winter, too. This winter has been particularly anxious; I’m too busy to look out the window. Plus, in Missouri, the winters I’ve known have been more dirty and inconvenient than serene. We get a lot of ice here–caky ice that freezes the doors shut on the cars. In Michigan (as I imagine it to be during the winter months in Colorado), winter was hearty, snow was regular, predictable and beautiful. Or maybe I just remember it that way because I was a kid with an imagination and more carefree time to frolic outdoors back then. -DM

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