spring in Pennsylvania

It’s time all of you Americans know something and understand it — Punxsutawney Phil is a pathological liar. That little rodent has been lying to us for years and yet people still think they can believe him when he says we’re getting an early spring.

Maybe someone, somewhere is getting an early spring but in his home state of Pennsylvania, we are not getting an early spring.

I visited Punxsutawney one time and I can confirm that it is not like the cute little town you see in the movie Groundhog Day either. They didn’t even shoot the film in Punxsutawney because the place is not picturesque and because there are actual shrines to that nasty little lying varmint all over the place.

The thing is even pictured on the outside of the newspaper building, on the newspaper masthead, and there is a wood carving of him by the McDonalds. Or there was when we visited 22 years ago.

Living in Pennsylvania means hearing about that dumb groundhog way too often. (Hopefully, you will take all these comments about Phil in the humorous way they are meant.)

It is raining today and is supposed to rain the rest of the day but mixed into the rain is ice and snow. It was like that off and on all week this past week. So no. We are not getting an early spring, even though last week I thought we might.

That was the week my daughter was riding her bike in front of the house and my son was taking long walks around town without a coat.

Pennsylvania’s weather is like this every year but it never makes it easier.

On Wednesday we had every single type of weather imaginable it seemed. One hour it was snowing, the next raining, the next sunny, and then windy and back around again. By Wednesday night, luckily, things started to settle down some so I could take Little Miss to the last night of Kid’s Club (a children’s program at a local church) and not worry about getting stuck in it all.

After Kid’s Club, I had to rush back home to lead my online Bible study, which made me a little nervous, but I survived. Thankfully the regular leader will be back this Wednesday.

On Thursday I took a relaxation day because the week had just been so rough with that one time I had to leave the house. Ha. Ha.

On Friday the kids and I traveled 20 minutes to pick up our groceries at the local Aldi. We also stopped at a local convenience store that used to be a mansion owned by a family tied into the area’s local history and I think maybe the underground railroad. I need to look that last part up.

Because there are some historical photographs, letters, and other information at the site, I told the kids we could count the trip as a field trip if they would go look at those items with me.

I plan to write a blog post about the site at a later date. I think it will interest history buffs, even if they aren’t local themselves.

I also plan to write a post soon about watching the Little House on the Prairie 50^th anniversary events in California this weekend and what the show has meant to me. I was literally sitting here crying earlier through an interview with Melissa Gilbert this afternoon. If any of you have sentimental connections to the show and would like to see the interview too, here it is:

I have been following Dean Butler (Almanzo Wilder) and Allison Arngrim (Nellie Olson)’s podcast to get ready for the festival off and on for a few months now. It’s brought back a lot of memories of watching the reruns when I was a kid and also reading the books, of course.

I’ll ramble more about my connection to the show in a separate post but will ask today if any of my readers have heard about the reunion and if you have been watching any of it?

I plan to have a cup of tea here soon and continue reading a book I signed up for through a blog tour, though now I’m second guessing it because the book is creepy.

I’ll hopefully be able to push through it and provide a fairly good review for the tour, but as for today, I’ll probably switch to a cozy mystery I am reading later on in the day.

My cat, Pixel, is curled up next to me on the couch on this rainy day. She’s dozing away. Both she and our younger cat Scout went outside for about 20 minutes later and then darted back in when I let Zooma the Wonder Dog out to use the bathroom. They’ve been doing that a lot all week. They’re missing being able to just hang out outside.

Scout is probably curled up somewhere else in the house. She’s been making the most of the short time she’s had outside. Yesterday The Boy found what was left of a dead bird out in the yard. We call Scout our bird killer so we are certain it is her.

Zooma the Wonder Dog is slowly recovering from not feeling well (she has a lot of stomach problems), but she is lying on her side and chilling out, instead of laying on her belly and looking like she is in pain like she did on other days during the week.

She will probably perk up even more when we visit my parents tomorrow for Sunday lunch.

So that was a bit of an update about my week.

How was your week this past week? Do anything exciting or relaxing? Let me know in the comments.

“There are robins on the hill,” my dad said and we rushed to the windows and “ooohed” and “aahed” because in Pennsylvania we know that the sight of the robins in our yards means spring has sprung. Sure, the grass may still be brown and yellow, the trees may still be naked, and the flowers aren’t yet budding, but when the robins appear, back from their trip South, we know it won’t be long.

Soon there will be flowers (and for our family sneezing), warm days spent at the playground (though we already squeezed a playground visit in this week),

I have to be honest, during our first warm day this spring, I found myself briefly wishing for cold again. After months of waiting for weather warm enough to get the children out of the house, I felt a rush of anxiety at having to talk to people again while walking the dog and pushing my daughter up the hills on her bicycle. I’m anti-social at heart (which is weird, considering the 13 years I worked in newspapers) and find the older I’ve become the more I prefer sitting at home, reading a book, writing nonsense on here, or watching another episode of “Somebody Feed Phil.”

Not having to wear a coat to walk to the car or around the block was welcome for those three warm days, before cold weather set back in, though. I walked to the local diner on the second warmer day, after a family friend invited me for lunch. I was fed what was possibly grass with some dried cranberries, the smallest sunflower seeds I’ve ever seen and a pile of oregano. Apparently, I’m not as “natural” as I like to think and found myself wishing the black beans sprinkled on as my source of protein was a huge steak.

Showing that I’m not yet prepared for the normal warm weather walking of five paces behind my daughter on her bike while trying not to let the dog yank me onto my face on the sidewalk on her short leash, I decided to try to cut corners and let the dog pull my daughter on her bike. I wasn’t really going to leave the leash hooked there long, but truly thought the dog might pull her forward a few inches instead of yanking the bike onto its side and leaving my preschooler laying under it at the exact moment a local police officer drove by.

The officer’s SUV slowed down and he looked through the tinted window at me as I lifted her off the sidewalk and checked her skinned elbow and grabbed the dog’s leash to keep her from running away. He gave me a thumbs up as if to ask “You okay?” and I gave one back to let him know I was and then waved a ‘thank you’. One thing that is nice about small-town life is the local police presence.

He drove away and I looked closer at the mark on her arm was about the size of the top of a pin, but you would have thought she had almost lost her arm the way her lower lip was pushed out and she started making demands we turn around and go home. In the past two weeks, she’s become very attached to bandaids and seems to think she needs them on even the smallest scratches.

Even her animals are receiving their own bandages, especially if the dog happens to grab on to one of them and run off with it. Also in the past two weeks, she has become much more stressed about – well, everything. I had a feeling what she needed more than a bandaid was a nap after a couple of hours at the playground earlier with her dad and even more running through the house chasing the dog, before our walk.

By Friday night the warm air had faded and I was receiving texts from my husband, who was at work, reminding me to turn on the heat. I refused, telling him it was still warm out and I wouldn’t close the windows and turn the heat on until I couldn’t feel my fingers or toes. This resolved faded shortly after that declaration and I found myself craving a warm cup of tea and the shawl that used to be my aunts.

For now I’m happy to sink back into a little bit of introvert isolation, content with the excuse that it’s simply too cold to go outside and interact with others. And who knows, maybe we will have a March blizzard like last year and I’ll have even more of an excuse to stay inside.