Δαφνη Ευτυχια Αρθουρος

Happy Groundhog Day!

I haven't turned on the telly or radio, so I don't know which groundhogs saw their shadows (okay, usually they only report on Punxsutawney Phil even though it's the groundhog in Irving, Texas who matters[1]), so I don't know whether, as my father used to explain it, we'll have six more weeks of winter or only a month and a half.

And no, I didn't get Groundhog Day cards mailed out last week. I find myself saying, just as I did last year, "NEXT year I'll be better organized." At least this year I did get as far as uncovering the stash of leftover cards from way back when I was last organized enough to send them.

And to friends and readers so inclined, Happy Imbolc as well. (Would it be appropriate to eat cheese made with sheep's milk in honour of the holiday?)

([1] And, according to tradition, the one that folks have any influence over.)