on groundhog day

Dear Groundhog,

I believe today is the day. When your time arrives today, please do not encounter your shadow and scurry back into your hole. Dig your way through the feet of snow that I'm sure are covering your hole, claw through the icy crust on top, and climb out into the overcast and cloudy day and please tell me that spring is coming soon. We're so done with winter here. We've made our snowmen. We've thrown some snowballs. We're completely over snow angels. I've shoveled enough snow off the driveway now to make up for the past three years when I didn't have to do any shoveling. We've played king of the mountain. We've stomped in mounds of snow in our boots everywhere that we go. We've suffered through snow days and late start days (and have actually lost count of how many there have been). We can't take much more. This recent ice storm was not quite what we had in mind. It may have provided lovely ice encrusted tree trunks and branches, but it also took an hour and a half in two separate ice attacking episodes to obliterate the inch thick sheet of ice on the driveway. One car width wide, anyway. Since every storm has led to a skinnier and skinnier driveway with less desire for shoveling or snow blowing and bigger and bigger piles on the sides threatening to crash back down onto the driveway, I'm afraid another storm or two will have the garage practically inaccessible. We haven't left the house in days, and a trip to Costco for milk is in order very soon. Don't forget, Mr. Groundhog, that I live in New Jersey which isn't far from Pennsylvania where I believe you reside. If you don't declare spring to be arriving soon, I might come and find you and drag you out of your hole myself and force you to pronounce that spring is on its way.

Sincerely,

Anxious about driving in the snow Alicia

Snowbound Sarah

Zany to get out of the house Zach