another year, another groundhog day card
Well, well, well... here we are again. Happy Groundhog Day to everyone who celebrates—which should really be all of you. After all, a rodent predicting the fate of our weather is the reason for the season.
If you're new here, welcome to my version of a Christmas card. Unlike Christmas cards, there’s no pressure for perfect family photos, significant other announcements, or the expectation to reconnect with people you haven’t seen in five years. So instead, I choose to do a Groundhog Day card—because, honestly, my chaotic life matches the absurdity of this annual tradition in Punxsutawney.
2024 was a time of learning when to say "yes" and when to say "no." Here are my findings from the last year:
JANUARY: Say YES to skiing with millennials; say NO when a cop asks if you gave anyone permission to slash your tires.
FEBRUARY: Say YES to reapplying sunscreen in Hawaii; say NO to hikes with six recent fatalities.
MARCH: Say YES to anything involving temporary tattoos and biodegradable glitter; say NO to crossing Rabbit Ears Pass during a blizzard.
APRIL: Say YES to checking your tire tread before a 10-hour road trip; say NO to booking a treehouse with a one-lane access road when you’re driving a sprinter van.
MAY: Say YES to verifying your half-marathon date before planning the trip; say NO to wearing Crocs in forests full of poison oak.
JUNE: Say YES to upstate NY in the summer; say NO to confusing a tick for a freckle.
JULY: Say YES to family summer camp; say NO to leftover stadium pretzels in trash bags.
AUGUST: Say YES to jumping in alpine lakes; say NO to side-by-side brakes that overheat.
SEPTEMBER: Say YES to tire tubes; say NO if Caroline offers to pet-sit any living species.
OCTOBER: Say YES to always carrying binoculars; say NO to tube tops and mechanical bulls.
NOVEMBER: Say YES to events involving Mike Tyson and six pounds of buffalo dip; say NO to transporting a turkey in a car with no shocks.
DECEMBER: Say YES to packing anti-nausea meds for a sailing trip; say NO when asked if you're boarding a flight out of Antarctica.
For 130 years, Punxsutawney Phil has faced the dilemma of saying "yes" or "no" to the fear of his own shadow. And even he gets it wrong sometimes, throwing our weather predictions all off.
At the end of the day, I'm just a girl trying to figure out this wild little life of mine, and Phil is just a glorified squirrel battling his fears—blissfully unaware of the chaos we both leave behind. Maybe 2025 is the year we get it all right. Or maybe not. And that’s okay, too.
From the comfort of our burrows,
Erin and Punxsutawney Phil
