#weather prognosticating groundhog

[academiaipromise]

every year my non-usamerican family asks me about groundhog day and they make sure i update them with the verdict. this year they’ve found out about general beuregard lee and they were like wait why has this never come up before and the answer is that that is level 5 usamerican lore that i don’t have the strength to explain.

[colemckenzies]

Groundhog Day Musical, West End 2023

after six years i finally saw my favourite musical of all time in person 🥰🥰 so here is my write up of the staging, lyric changes, general commentary etc.

it's worth noting that i imagine the staging is more similar to its original west end run than the broadway version, but i didn't see it back then and couldn't find any footage so I'll just be comparing to the broadway ver. it will also all be based off of the One west end performance i saw and One broadway performance that was filmed cus yk live theatre and all that. i'm also only one person so this def won't be comprehensive. if there's anything you particularly want to know that i haven't mentioned please ask!!

for major overarching changes, there was no turntable which significantly affected the staging, especially for songs like night will come. it's also a much smaller space and much more condensed cast than on broadway.

anyway without further ado lets go woodchuck chuckers 😎 in chronological order

the opening video is completely changed. rather than showing phil interacting w his producer, it just shows his forecast segment in full. he explains more about what groundhog day is as a holiday and that this is his fourth year attending. also includes the line 'we can't all have good weather because we're not all good people'. banner along the bottom read 'up next music: white wine in the snow' as a little tim minchin ref :)

only one person sang the 'i was born on a punxutawney dawn' opening section of there will be sun, pretty sure it was buster. lot of solos for the rest of the song as well but not specific townspeople i think

everyone came out of the mist as in broadway version, but everyone was dressed in the top hat costume. they stood a line across the stage and took a group selfie w a selfie stick

phil turns off the radio after 'that's right woodchuck chuckers, it's groundhog day' so there's none of the subsequent lyrics/banter. i'm also 90% sure the radio recording was from the soundtrack

FIRST LYRIC CHANGE. there's an extra line in day one that goes 'their dumb superstitions and vacuous chat, their total unawareness of the fact their trapped, perhaps you don't miss it if you don't know you lack it, I'm sure there was a pack of xanax in this jacket' (EDIT - thank you for the correction @jackhkeynes )

^not a huge fan of this change tbh but only bc the original rhythm is one of my favourite parts of the song.

there's no hallway in the b&b, the kitchen set is the back end of the bedroom set. this means jonathan is downstairs the kitchen rather than meeting phil in the hallway, so the scene ends up as him, phil, and mrs lancaster. the tourist couple do not come in (or exist), mrs lancaster says the popsicle line.

there's a couple of extra new jokes in the dialogue. lmk if you want to know specifics lol

since mrs lancaster comes straight into this scene they skip the 'think i'll lose it all together' little bit of music

all the dancers are part of the marching band and they all join for the selfie with phil

phil getting hit in the head by the groundhog guy is because the hot dog guy (here played by one of the newsies i saw LOL) yells 'GO PHIL!!!' every time so the groundhog turns around to wave

buster uses an alt melody for his announcement - 'prognostication' goes down rather than up for the last note

they get punxsy phil out on the 'this brown log' line, so they skip the 'the finest specimen you will find' section

nancy sings the 'kinda both but not quite either' line over buster, which i actually really like because she does it in this really peppy cheerleader :DDD way that adds to her being a Prop. she even has pompoms.

wilbur in this version is sooooo good he's a lot more physical and really leans into his megaphone

when phil comes back from the blizzard rita seems a lot more genuinely concerned about him than just laughing

she accidentally orders her drink with a 'tryst' before 'kiss' and finally 'twist'

NEW LYRICS in day two - since there's no radio chatter in this version, after 'how many days is this holiday?' phil sings '[something] clearly failed to mention the owner showing signs of early onset dementia, one groundhog day is surely more than enough, even hicks must get sick of this stuff'

rest of the song continues as normal, again rita seems more concerned about phil, shouts 'maybe i can help!' when he leaves the diner

she then sings her diary section quite differently, like alt melody AND alt rhythm, she seems flustered

actually she also has a lot more variation between days than a lot of the townspeople, like she's more responsive to phil acting differently

LYRIC CHANGE in stuck - 'rhino foreskin' is now 'monkey foreskin'. lyric changes that push me dangerously close to googling 'do rhinos have foreskin' (EDIT - tim apparently said this was because white rhinos went extinct so it made him sad - thank u anon!)

the enema takes place behind a screen, a bit like the silhouette technique used for the shower in hope

at the end of stuck when everyone lists their thing again (karma/toxins/etc), phil says no!! after each one until alcohol and then he goes 'oh thank god'

nothing hugely notable to say for nobody cares, just that it skipped over some of the dialogue at the beginning just to make the scene tighter. i will say that ralph and gus are Exceptional in this version

the staging is mostly the same, except jack and wilbur get their own little cars to follow the truck in :)

in philandering, phil tells nancy he's a war correspondant rather than working for the nyt

again the dialogue throughout the song is a lot more streamlined

the little pillow fight section is replaced by a party in phil's room where you just see everyone going in and out of the door that's set up like when he slept w nancy. he gets his big fur coat from a coke dealer.

in one day, rita doesn't comment on phil's choice of drink, so there's nothing about 'frou frou lady drinks', she just orders right after him and the day restarts

not a new thing but. i forgot about the soixante neuf line and it made me choke

rita and phil sit on a bench to the side of the stage after the snowball fight, not on the floor

joelle's voice is extremely pretty in this ver:) I think the harmony may be slightly different?

LYRIC CHANGE. in arguably the most bizarre lyric change, jonathan is no longer addicted to fried chicken takeaway, but rather camembert. which you may notice does not rhyme with 'day'. the full line is: 'one day, i swear, i'll kick my addiction to camembert. my doctor said one day my heart will stop beatin', if i don't ease off this cheese eatin'.' (EDIT - changed due to this track being played by a black actor, though the one i saw was white - thank you anon!)

the diner waitress doesn't exist in this cut down cast, so it's debbie who can't sing. fred is very supportive :)

something cool they do in lieu of the turntable is for Larry's repeated 'ok phil we're on in 5...' they have multiple larrys, similar to the body doubling in hope, who keep running up to phil and fading away

ACT TWO

the act opens slightly differently - since nancy is kind of part of the marching band in this ver (tho not in full uniform), it opens with a quick section of who is that! who is that? emerging from his burrow -. nancy sings her 'kinda both but not quite either' line, and then drops one of her pompoms on 'until we hear it from old punxsutawney -' and then as she goes to pick it up that music stops and playing nancy begins

LOVE that it cuts off just before 'phil' bc it has the same effect as even choosing to open w playing nancy anyway. she was an incredible nancy as well she's not got many credits yet but oh my god? this was so striking and moving irl and it's already one of my favourite choices of the show

there's a lot more use of Red Lighting when phil kills phil. rip.

staging for hope is almost exactly the same, but minus turntable, so it doesn't have the part where lots of Not Phils are dying simultaneously, just the three main deaths

the scene where phil exposits about everyone in the diner goes jeff -> debbie -> freddie. there's a great exchange that goes 'you're welcome jeff.' / 'do you two know each other?' / 'no???' / 'that's jeff.'

also phil doesn't insist debbie wants a diamond (since she ends up w a doorknob anyway), he just goes CLOSE THE DEAL FREDDIE!!!

since this version establishes this is phil's fourth year covering ghd and debbie and fred met on ghd four years ago, there's a pretty good reason why they're such big fans of him :)

not a difference but the 'i'll never have a birthday' line always hits so hard

if i had my time again is THE single most different song between versions. the musical arrangement is quite different to my ear, different harmonies, and there's alt melodies and rhythms as well as some extra lyrics

as i have already seen noted on tumblr, 'and one dude when i was bored' has been upgraded to SOME dudes. also rita goes 'sure..!' she's like ok u bi bitch. also they're still on the benches at this point but she's jumped onto his.

even when they are on the move there's none of the stuff w the townspeople hounding phil for photos/autographs, they're just hanging out

the section where phil 'shows Rita his hometown' has actually been moved to near the end of the show, so they just get on the tilt-a-whirl immediately. also they share a car rather than having separate ones.

the staging for this part was so beautiful it actually made me cry lol. w strings of lights coming down

LYRIC CHANGE - 'i daily eat a dozen donuts' is now 'i eat a dozen donuts every day'

FURTHERMORE, the second 'why' is actually directed at rita's 'i would learn piano', and she replies by singing 'why?? I'd just give everything a try' and then their 'these revolving rides' section is a completely different tune going into a brand new ending where she's lying on his bed and he has a balloon, with:

NEW LYRICS - rita: 'go to all the parties that i missed, kiss all the boys i was too afraid to kiss (why am i not surprised you have a list?), try to have more days that end like.. this :)'

the next couple of scenes play out as in the bway ver

the order of vignettes leading up to and in night will come are switched - phil brings jenson the thermos of soup on the second day and takes him to the hospital on the third day as the song begins, with the scene w the nurse taking place after the first verse

obviously the staging is quite different without the turntable, ned wanders about between verses and then stands still/sits to sing

ned has a lot more of an 'annoying' exaggerated nasally voice in this ver

in his post-song broadcast, phil pronounces 'phi' like 'fee' instead of 'fie'

in philanthropy, phil saves jonathan from choking rather than the tourist, which does end up feeling a bit random since he also gives mrs lancaster a new coffee pot in this song iirc so along with the sheriff and debbie it's established he's solving the problems from 'one day', and jonathan is clearly Not choking on camembert lmao

the singer at the party at the end is debbie!!!

during seeing you, when phil takes rita up to the observation deck, she calls it 'romantic' sarcastically after the toilets/garbage/etc, and then That's when he points out the duck pond, school etc, and she says it's like he's showing her his hometown

MORNING OF FEBRUARY 3RD EVEN MORE DEVASTATING FROM THIRD ROW OF STALLS.

ending is the broadway one, watching the sunrise :) except it's just phil and rita and no one else

so yeah IT FUCKED andy karl I would die for you. as i say lmk if you have any other questions and i will do my best :)

[grogusmum]

FEBRUARY: In The Belly

A Hedge Witch and the Mercenary Story for Imbolc

PERO X F!READER (nicknamed reader)

WORD COUNT: 1700ish

RATED: M

SUMMARY: This is a one-shot for The Hedge Witch and the Mercenary series, though, I don't think you have to read the entire series to enjoy this fic. If you care to read the series here is a link to the series masterlist

Pero and his hedge witch, Mariposa are ready for Imbolc and for the babies conceived on last Beltane to arrive.

WARNINGS: pregnancy, beginnings of labor

A/N: Here is the February installment of The Wheel of the Year, my theme for @yearofcreation2023. Organized by the effervescent @oonajaeadira and @writeforfandoms February brings us the funny little holiday of Imbolc, living on today for non-pagans as Groundhog Day, Candlemas, and St Brigit's Day. Very like Groundhog Day it is all about the anticipation of spring- including prognosticating when spring will arrive. Included is a Gaelic proverb from Scotland.

Pero returned to the cottage, after stacking newly split wood under the shelter he built in the fall, arms full of firewood. He was proud of the structure, not only for its sturdiness but the idea- close to the home easy to get, even in poor weather. Keeping the crickets and other insects outside all the while keeping it dry.

“It is still light out,” he remarked, shutting the wind outside the door.

“So it is!” Your belly was full and round, the rite of Beltane having done its work. “Spring is truly on the way, husband.”

“The lambs will be here any day,” Pero grunted as he dumped the wood on the hearth. 

“This is good, we'll be able to milk the ewe and make cheese.” You said with a sigh, food stores were low and three feet of snow sat resolute on the ground. “We need to give an offering to Brigid at the well tonight, for tomorrow is Imbolc, my love.”

“I will do this, Mariposa. You, too, are due any day.”

You raised an eyebrow- 

“Pero you have cleared a path to the well, I can get there.”

Pero came to your rocking chair, placed a slow kiss on the top of your head then knelt before you. His hand found your belly and a kick from within responded. You both smiled looking down as if you could see the culprit. 

“Mi hermosa brujita, mother of my children,” Pero placed an open mouth lingering kiss on yours; it made you ache for more, “you are your own worst midwife, she has told you you must be in bed, not even in your chair, let alone at the well in the snow.” 

You rolled your eyes and let Pero help you up. You were big. You and the midwife both knew there was more than one child to be born, though no one would have guessed three. You laughed as you waddled to your cozy tick. Pero set you up so you could sit, wrapping a wool blanket around you and covering you in fur. Then he gave your belly a kiss and rested his head there, murmuring sweet nothings to the little ones in his native tongue. Then his dark eyes met yours -

“Do you have everything ready?”

“Aye,” you sighed, “All but the wash tub.”

“I will bring it in so we may start to fill it, Mariposa,” Pero smiled. “But you will stay right where you are.”  This was his favorite part of the Rites to Brigid. When you had told him that you would bathe each other, he was concerned that it was to be a sponge bath as it was on Beltane, the cottage was warm, but one finds every draft when standing undressed and wet, it would have to be rushed. But you assured him you would use the beautiful tub he had traded for in the fall. 

“Very well,” you smiled knowing Pero loved caring for you.

You finished weaving a straw Brigid’s cross and a dolly from the bed while Pero brought in the tub and snow to heat over the fire, it would take some time, but well worth it.

Pero listened carefully to all your directions, he took the basket full of items he would need to take outside, and tried not to show any nervousness about doing the rituals himself. Of course, you did your best to instill confidence, telling him you had complete faith in him. And if the faeries did not turn him into a boar already, they were not going to tonight. 

He began by hanging the cross over the door, and with a quick look back and a finger pointed at you to stay put, he set off. Needless to say, you snuck out of bed only a moment or two after he left, but only to move the heated water to the tub and place more melted snow on the hook arm in the fire. Then you set the cradle Pero had built next to the hearth and slipped back in bed. You picked up some of your handwork and waited.

Pero had very specific instructions. First, he laid a bundle of slit logs and sticks on his ax yard stump - an offering for Cailleach (kəˈlʲax) the crone who is nearing the end of her reign-

“For your hearth Cailleach, may you rest and allow for an early end to winter.”   

Pero approached the well, looking around as if to make sure he was alone. Then walked sunwise around it. The blessing he learned only a murmur at first but gained strength as he went-

“Thig an nathair as an toll

Là donn Brìde,

Ged robh trì troighean dhen t-sneachd

Air leac an làir.”

(The serpent will come from the hole

On the brown Day of Brigid,

Though there should be three feet of snow

On the flat surface of the ground.)

“Brigid, blazing in the darkness of winter,

keeper of the flame

We honor you, light bringer,

healer; exalted one.”

He set out the loaf of bread with honey and a cup of mead, then continued -

“Bless us now, hearth mother,

that we may be as fruitful as the very soil,

and our lives as abundant.”

Then Pero left the path, stepping up on the deep snow. He settled his weight finding the snow can hold him, only sinking a few inches. He walked over to the sleeping apple tree, one of the reasons you and Pero chose this spot for your home, and tied a strip of linen to a limb.

Then clasped his hands and said his own prayer.

“Please.” Pero began, his voice hitched slightly, “please keep my mariposa safe when she bares our babies. Brigid, Good Neighbors… God- whomever, all of you…”

Pero could feel his ire going up, transforming his fear into anger at whatever powers might be listening as if he could hear them making excuses not to grant his plea. But wisely, he ended his “prayer” quickly as he was close to giving them an ultimatum. Instead, he took a breath and gave his thanks for you, this life he never thought he deserved, and the babies that were to come. His last task was to hang up some clothes for blessing, but before he moved to hang them he heard the low of the pregnant ewe, not in the stable but by the well reaching with her mouth for the bread.

“Mama, what are you doing here?” Pero looked around, wondering how she could have gotten out there so suddenly, as he approached the sheep. After all, she was almost as wide as she was long. The sheep waited, her calm eyes on him. 

“This is no food for sheep, sí?” he admonished. 

She bleated her own admonishments in return. 

Pero looked around, thinking of all you had taught him of the old gods, of the fae, and he took a piece of the honeyed bread and gave it to her.

“There you are, mama. Now let's get you back where you can rest.” He led her back to the stable and added some straw to her bed before heading back to the house. He heard some voices and something moved in his periphery. He did his best not to smirk, but to his ears, they seemed pleased. 

Finally, he returned to the warmth of the house, and you- his home.

He swung open the door, sure he would catch you out of bed, but you looked at him innocently from the bedstead.

Pero made no mention of the water he could see had been moved, nor the stool with a pitcher, washcloth, and soap. The two lengths of linen from Beltane were now warming by the fire. He finished the job, filling the large tub with melted hot snow and adding more. 

After the water was ready he came to the bed. 

“Come, mi vida,” he said his voice low. He helped you out of bed and out of your shift, and you helped him out of his shirt and unlaced his britches. The firelight set a warm glow on your bodies, Pero wondered if he would ever stop being in awe of yours.

As you stepped into the tub, you let out a sigh, Pero settled you in before climbing in himself. His eyes on you were worshipful. He loved every change your body has gone through, your belly rounding like the moon, your breasts swelling with pre-milk to nourish your babies, his babies, our babies. He knew he would love your body after. He could not ever imagine not wanting his hands on you at all the time. Pero pulled you forward so he could tuck in behind you. 

You reached for the small pitcher and poured a thick liquid into the tub. As Pero reached for the washcloth and soap, he began washing your shoulders, neck, and back.

“What potion is that, Mariposa?”

“Ewe’s first milk, sacred to Brigid, good for purifying baths,” you said simply.

“That reminds me, the ewe was by the well.”

“Matilda? When?” making a small splash as you turned to look at him.

“Yes, she just appeared after I said the blessing,” Pero said with as much curiosity as one might have if they saw the baker outside his shop in the village. 

“Auspicious,” you mused, smiling.

“I gave her some bread,” Pero began washing your front, his arm wrapping around you. You could hear he was pleased with himself.

“Good,” you smiled, looking over your shoulder at him, “Brigid will be pleased.” Your kiss on his cheek was interrupted by a small moan as he paid special attention to your breasts. Circling gently as he knew they were tender at this point. He kissed your neck, and your moan turned to a groan. This sent a zing of excitement down his spine. His kiss turned to a bite, but you stiffened in a way that did not seem right. You were still a stone -

“Marimosa?” 

Your hands went to your belly, and Pero knew. You had talked to Pero, and so did Yedda, the midwife, assuring him that at the very start of labor, you had time for him to ride to Yedda’s village and back. He was sorry you did not have time to enjoy your bath, but he knew what to do. 

“I think it is time, Pero. You are soon to become a papa!” you smiled.

THANK YOU FOR READING! 💚 HAPPY IMBOLC!

If you enjoyed this, you can find more Pero and my writing in general on my masterlist and if you would like to be tagged in future work, please go to my taglist form.

[xtruss]

Groundhog Club handler A.J. Dereume holds Punxsutawney Phil, the weather prognosticating groundhog, during the 138th celebration of Groundhog Day on Gobbler's Knob in Punxsutawney, Pa., Friday, Feb. 2, 2024. Phil's handlers said that the groundhog has forecast an early spring. (AP Photo/Barry Reeger)

Groundhog Day: Punxsutawney Phil Predicts An Early Spring

— By Jacob Geanous | Pittsburgh Post-Gazette | February 2, 2024

Punxsutawney Phil, Western Pennsylvania’s famed weather-predicting groundhog, predicted an early spring Friday morning after he emerged from his burrow and did not see his shadow.

The mystical marmot was summoned at dawn by the members of the Groundhog Club Inner Circle, a group of local dignitaries tasked with caring for Phil and organizing the annual Groundhog Day at Gobbler’s Knob — a small hill approximately 65 miles northeast of Pittsburgh.

Groundhog Club handler A.J. Dereume holds Punxsutawney Phil, the weather prognosticating groundhog, during the 138th celebration of Groundhog Day on Gobbler's Knob in Punxsutawney, Pa., Friday, Feb. 2, 2024. Phil's handlers said that the groundhog has forecast an early spring. (AP Photo/Barry Reeger)

Phil’s prediction comes as sunshine and temperatures in the 40s and 50s are expected for the week ahead, weather that Groundhog Day organizers said, in part, led to an estimated 30,000 visitors for the town’s festivities.

Phil’s forecast predicted six more weeks of winter the past three years after calling for an early spring in 2019 and 2020.

Here’s What You Should Know.

Groundhog Club handler A.J. Dereume holds Punxsutawney Phil, the weather prognosticating groundhog, during the 137th celebration of Groundhog Day on Gobbler's Knob in Punxsutawney, Pa., Thursday, Feb. 2, 2023. Phil's handlers said that the groundhog has forecast six more weeks of winter. (AP Photo/Barry Reeger) (AP)

What Are The Origins Of Groundhog Day

The custom dates back to an early Christian tradition known as Candlemas, in which celebrants declared that clear skies on Candlemas meant a longer winter. Pennsylvania’s earliest settlers brought the tradition with them.

As for Phil, he rose to fame after appearing in Punxsutawney’s local newspaper in 1886. A member of a groundhog hunting group known as “The Punxsutawney Groundhog Club” used his clout at the paper to trumpet Phil, named after King Phillip, as the only official weather prognosticating groundhog.

Phil’s popularity grew from there, and the first of many annual Groundhog Day treks to Gobbler’s Knob followed in 1887.

Groundhog Day is led by the Groundhog Club’s Inner Circle, a group of 15 local dignitaries who also feed and take care of Phil year round, although the Inner Circle president is the only one responsible for translating Phil’s predictions.

Are Phil’s Predictions Foolproof?

Despite his induction into the Punxsutawney Weather Discover Center’s Meteorologist Hall of Fame last year, Phil is not always spot on in his predictions.

In fact, Phil’s Winter prognostications have been accurate just 39% of the time over 135 years, according to StormFax Weather Almanac.

Throughout the history of Groundhog Day, Phil has also been shown to be much more likely to predict six more weeks of winter.

He has seen his shadow 108 times while seeing no shadow 20 times.

There is no record of nine of his predictions during a span between 1889 and 1899, although it was reported that Phil did not see his shadow in 1890, predicting an early Spring.

President Tom Dunkel and Groundhog handler AJ Derume with Punxsutawney Phil, who saw his shadow, predicting a late spring during the 137th annual Groundhog Day festivities on February 2, 2023 in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania. Groundhog Day is a popular tradition in the United States and Canada. A crowd of upwards of 5,000 people spent a night of revelry awaiting the sunrise and the groundhog's exit from his winter den. If Punxsutawney Phil sees his shadow he regards it as an omen of six more weeks of bad weather

What Does Phil Do The Rest Of The Year?

Although Groundhog Day brings the most visitors to Punxsutawney and the surrounding region, residents and Groundhog Day organizers said it's not the only time to visit the small town of about 6,000.

However, anyone who wants to meet the meteorological mammal outside of Groundhog Day will have to visit him at his home, a climate-controlled burrow at the Punxsutawney Memorial Library.

Phil also travels to events across the country in either his handlers’ vehicles or his tricked-out Philmobile.

Meanwhile, when Phil isn’t meeting with fans, he’s snacking on kale, bananas, carrots, apples and sweet potatoes.

Groundhog Club Inner Circle President Tom Dunkel and other Inner Circle members present Punxsutawney Phil to visitors on Groundhog Day 2023. Credit: Tom Dunkel (Tom Dunkel)

The Holiday Is A Boon For The Town And Region

With Groundhog Day comes an influx of visitors and cash to Punxsutawney and the surrounding rural region.

Hotels across the region book up months in advance of the day and the visitors bring a much needed boost to local businesses during the traditionally slow month of January.

“It has a great impact on our local businesses,” Katie Laska, Punxsutawney Area Chamber of Commerce president and owner of Laska’s Pizza. “It’s the shot in the arm that we need every year.”

Groundhog Club Inner Circle President Tom Dunkel and other Inner Circle members present Punxsutawney Phil to visitors on Groundhog Day 2023. Credit: Tom Dunkel (Tom Dunkel)

The effects also extend far past Punxsutawney into the entire region.

“Groundhog Day is a major asset not just for the town of Punxsutawney, but also for the PA Wilds region as a whole,” said Britt Madera, communications manager for the PA Wilds Center for Entrepreneurship, a nonprofit focused on conservation and economic development in the region. “When visitors come to see Phil make his annual prognostication, they're often inspired to continue exploring other parts of the region too.”

All Eyes on Punxsutawney

The nation's attention turns to western Pennsylvania this morning to watch the country's most famous groundhog, Punxsutawney Phil, determine whether 2024 will bring an early spring or a longer winter. The prescient land-beaver will pick one of two scrolls, each containing separate wintery prophecies.

As is tradition, the slumberous whistle-pig will join his top-hatted crew to see whether he'll spot his shadow (foretelling six more weeks of winter) or relax a bit with his admiring fans (predicting an early spring). Phil is right about 40% of the time—or an impressive 60% if you flip the somewhat arbitrary rules.

The ceremony was originally conceived of by a local newspaper editor in 1886 but has its roots in Eastern European celebrations of the midway between the winter solstice and spring equinox—and also falls on the lesser-known Christian holiday, Candlemas.

Historical accounts suggest farmers used the appearance of hibernating mammals to signal spring. In reality, science suggests the salacious marmot likely appears to check for mates.

— Magazine 1440

[kotamagic]

I wanna know who looked at a groundhog and seriously thought it was a good weather prognosticator.

[writer59january13]

I hanker and pine for wood burning stove weather

I haint no spring chicken, ("Buk buk buk buk ba-gawk!") but in Summer re:

long in tooth sexagenarian

nostalgic for the following imagery evoked yesterday with very little effort (aside from sweat of my brow – just existing)

June twenty second hazy, hot, and humid

at least here within the environs -

of Montgomery County, Pennsylvania

tooth thousand and twenty four,

the air analogous to a steam bath outside, though such insight

strictly predicated on meteorologist as seen on the flat screen.

Now before scrolling down lemme forewarn you of dire prediction reading about how yours truly doth suspire for Old Man Winter

returning with a vengeance

delivering a white July Fourth, Halloween,

Thanksgiving, Christmas,

Groundhog Day, Saint Patrick's Day...

yours truly desiring experiencing

becoming comfortably numb,

after envisioning, invoking then summoning forth cold spell.

Should deep freeze rain (reign)

crystalline precipitation pure as the driven snow

blanketing large swaths of webbed wide world

wreaking havoc courtesy unparalleled blizzard conditions,

would stump and confound earth scientists

suddenly finding themselves pensively trumped subsequently becoming overnight skeptics and staunch Republicans to boot - argh,

who grudgingly, hesitatingly scrap

what seemed to be

irrefutable air tight evidence

with reams of data proving global warming and side with deniers –

mostly non Democrats

courtesy artificial intelligence hinting at inexplicable significant ice age approaching,

barreling, and coming fast as a freight train virtual models prognostication

would show Polar Vortex

engulfing the entire planet clamping down hard

much of the United States

likely a couple short months in the future,

forecasting temperatures to register absolute zero

taxing the electric grids to heat lovely bones chilling, freezing, immobiling civilization, whereby

government agencies regularly issuing permanent code blue declarations,

which teeth chattering cold scenario

impossible mission to imagine or avoid with wind chill factors in triple digits

Jack Frost overstayed courtesy welcome,

when climate controlled central heater allows, enables and provides man/woman made respite hooray,

apartment cozy as a poetry nook,

whereby yours truly his head he doth lay (under crocheted blanket)

quickly slipping into deep sleep; the missus (madre) and her padre

(me) taking a siesta until spring

in my dream I take treadway

from such new zzz land

to Piccadilly Circus, London,

welcoming me to early twentieth century

balmy weather all year round place named Willoughby, where one

unnecessary to get bundled

and wrapped up –

like a mummy dearest

kvetching in vain at frigid forecast oy vey,

where surveillance cameras take x-ray

of suspicious character - Not Me,

while actually in reality outside apartment B44

one after another Nor'easter howls like bajillion banshees

vents wind chill factor

as temperature dips into low double digits as high,

and subzero higher negative number as a low,

I summon (with a puff) fire breathing friendly quasi magic dragon,

an acceptable and laughable substitute

calls for none other than Barney purple anthropomorphic

Tyrannosaurus Rex dinosaur.

Though a non-smoker of cigarettes, I discover pleasure slowly puffing on my pipe, and chose one at random from among the collection

made of briar wood, meerschaum,

corncob, pear-wood, rose-wood or clay listening to crackling flickering hearth,

yours truly snuggling (curled up in a little ball) with favorite reading material close proximity warming, thawing, and quelling lovely bones.

For no particular rhyme nor reason I lapse into a reverie and hear the brutal and nasty wind plaintively howling the song Molly Malone

her lilting voice distinctly heard Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh!"

Meanwhile atavistic visitations hover after hypnotizing mindscape

of twenty first century Homo sapien as flashback visions of proto humans commingling with competing

short and nasty brutes brushes within subconscious purring, mew zing catacombs

jump/kick starting, harkening, dawning lion eyes zing

thawing ordinarily dormant memories,

where forebears alive bajillion years ago battle him of the republic

thumping their chests

and uttering primal sounds

against vastly outnumbered predators, who make mincemeat of weakest warbler similar to contemporary beastie boy punk bands

survival of the fittest

linkedin to anonymous

Monkey's Uncle recherché representatives toehold barely latched precarious niche easily activated punctuated equilibrium evolutionary quirk

imperceptibly bumped uglies begot robust progeny

offspring expanding comfort zones penumbra expanding edge of night dark shadows receding further

outer limits of twilight zone

phantasmagoric shifting shapes (hint... think Plato's Republic in general –

and Allegory of the Caves in particular - synonymous with Allegory of the Metals)

alluring, beckoning, daring...

establishing, foraging, growing...

harvesting, invoking, jabbering

kowtowing, livingsocial, Ashley Madison matchmaking tinder (ha)...

now lemme zip forward back to the future bajillion years somewhere in time circa 1970's British comedy troupe

nudge nudge wink wink,

say no more know what I mean courtesy Monty Python's Flying Circus

rollicking humorous sketches

oft times tackling primal urges

proto humans initially verbally grunted,

where guffawing laughter

rewarded survivalist basic instinct

temporarily staving rabid quivering premonitions outside

creature comfort boundaries, whereby Geico Caveman

will remain till... dis ember

by George thoroughly good appetizer, viz good chilled Wren plus

Pheasant under glass

burns away hunger pangs.

[stevishabitat]

Punxsutawney Phil rises without a shadow, forecasting early spring : NPR

Groundhog Club handler A.J. Dereume holds Punxsutawney Phil, the weather-prognosticating groundhog, during the 138th celebration of Groundhog Day on Gobbler's Knob in Punxsutawney, Pa., on Friday.

[stephen-barry]

Early Spring!

Of marmots, our Phil is the king,

Prognosticating weather and things,

Each year he appears,

To hoots, hollers, and cheers,

And this time he predicts early spring!

[rhinexstone]

I mean, they’re technically called the Inner Circle of the Punxsutawney Groundhog club. They organize the whole event (along with other events throughout the year), and feed him too. Some positions are:

Chief health man

Rainmaker (current handler of Phil)

Shingle shaker

Fair Weatherman

Thunder conductor

According to the lore, Punxsutawney Phil is immortal and is able to live forever due to the “elixir of life”. He gets one sip a year at their summer picnic and is given more years to live. Unfortunately, his wife, Phyliss doesn’t get to drink it and will die one day.

In order for the prediction to occur it must take place on Gobblers Knob, and the handler of Phil not only wears animal handling gloves but chain mail gloves underneath. They also must appear in their top hats, button ups, and jackets at all times for public appearances (pants may vary from basketball shorts to tux pants, but of course complete formal wear must be worn for the prediction ceremony itself).

The president is the only person fluent in Groundhogese, Phil’s language, so he translates what’s been said into English. According to the wiki:

“The president of the Inner Circle, the only person able to understand Groundhogese through his possession of an ancient acacia wood cane, then interprets Phil's message, and directs the vice president to read the proper scroll”

Oh, and Phil’s full name is actually:

Punxsutawney Phil, Seer of Seers, Sage of Sages, Prognosticator of Prognosticators and Weather Profit Extraordinary

It’s a very serious event

So Friday was Groundhog Day and I watched the video of Punxsutawney Phil failing to see his shadow and... The whole thing just struck me as INCREDIBLY wizard-coded.

I mean, just look at this and tell me it doesn't scream "The Council has convened to channel the wondrous divinations magics of the Great Phil of Punxsutawney":

I just HAD TO do something with this thought...

Behold:

[sutrala]

With the world-famous Groundhog Day approaching Feb. 2, there's a fresh effort to replace the animal used in the shadowy weather prognostication in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania. And this time, PETA, the People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, is hoping the public flips...

[biglisbonnews]

The Alternative Groundhogs Vying for Punxsutawney Phil's Weather Forecasting Job He has been variously described as “Orphie The Magnanimous,” a “reclusive oracle,” and a “world-renowned prognosticator,” offering a second opinion on the coming of spring every February 2. Just don’t call him an “alternative groundhog.” And definitely don’t call him a taxidermied, mounted groundhog wearing a tiny top hat and the occasional bowtie—although that’s exactly what he is. To his followers, who are known as the Hibernating Governors of the Slumbering Groundhog Lodge, Octoraro Orphie is “The One True Groundhog.” “We have a lot of trouble believing people who believe in Punxsutawney Phil,” says Charlie Hart, the current leader of the lodge, which is located in Quarryville, Pennsylvania, “The way we see it, he’s an impostor.” On Groundhog Day, it’s Hart’s job to ascend the “Pinnacle of Prognostication” (a manure spreader) and, after consulting with Orphie, deliver the animal’s verdict on the duration of winter. How does Hart make this determination? “Oh, I can’t tell you that,” Hart says with a laugh. Orphie is not the only four-legged weathercaster offering an alternative for those not quite sold on Punxsutawney Phil’s meteorology. In Pennsylvania alone, his competition includes other groundhogs such as: Mount Joy Minnie, Grover, Poor Richard, Lawrenceville Lucy, Mt. Gretna Grady, Poppy (who appeared alongside Bill Murray in a 2020 Jeep commercial), Susquehanna Sherman, Tinicum Tim, Uni, and more. “We don’t really have much of a beef with these other prognosticators,” says Quarryville Lodge member J.C. Bell, “other than our belief that Orphie is absolutely correct 100 percent of the time.” Despite the fervor and lighthearted trash-talking of their adherents, these “alternative groundhogs” didn’t originate as a backlash against Phil or his skills in weather prophecy. In Pennsylvania, the tradition of the groundhog lodge, or grundsau lodsch, is rooted in the history of Pennsylvania Dutch culture. “The legend of the groundhog originated in Europe, although there weren’t groundhogs there,” says William Donner, professor of anthropology at Kutztown University and author of the book Serious Nonsense: Groundhog Lodges, Versammlinge and Pennsylvania German Heritage. “It’s based on Candlemas, which is six weeks after Christmas and midway between the [spring] equinox and the [summer] solstice. It has a lot of symbolic meaning—it commemorates Mary bringing Jesus to the temple of Jerusalem.” Historically, the holiday also celebrated the planting of crops. Over time, Candlemas evolved into a weather-predicting event where different animals served as weather forecasters to determine the best time to sow the fields. According to the Farmer’s Almanac, this job went to bears in France and England, while in Germany, badgers did the honors. In the 1800s, when German immigrants to Pennsylvania sought to continue their Candlemas traditions, there were no badgers to be found—but groundhogs were plentiful. With a job vacancy to fill, the newly established Pennsylvania German communities found these lowland marmots equally employable. Punxsutawney Phil and his Groundhog Club gained widespread fame primarily by being the first to the party. “It was 1886 when the first mention of Groundhog Day appeared in The Punxsutawney Spirit, which is one of the only newspapers in Punxsutawney,” says Michael Venos, creator and curator of the website, “Countdown To Groundhog Day.” “It was maybe the next year that they actually had some sort of celebration. By the early 20th century, some of these other groundhog lodges had begun to appear.” Despite his storied origin, the legend of Phil strains credulity. According to his website, Phil has been one continuous groundhog since 1887, one who is quite possibly undead or otherwise immortal at age 136. (The average groundhog lifespan in the wild is two to three years.) “That’s their official line—that it’s always been the same groundhog from the beginning,” Venos says. “According to the lore, on Groundhog Day, they give him a sip of this juice, which supposedly gives him seven more years of life.” After World War I, the phenomenon of groundhog lodges began to intersect with efforts to revive the Pennsylvania Dutch language. Today some Groundhog Day ceremonies are conducted entirely in Pennsylvania German, like Uni the Groundhog’s prediction event in Myerstown, Pennsylvania. Edwin Engle, president of Uni’s lodge, Groundhog Lodge #17, has been participating in Uni’s ceremony for 42 years. He says speaking Pennsylvania Dutch at the event helps keep the language alive. “I learned Pennsylvania Dutch from my grandfather,” says Engle. “We’ve had people bring homeschooled children to the ceremony, telling the kids ‘This involves your heritage—this is something you should know.’” Lodge # 17’s ceremony also boasts the unforgettable display of Uni, a taxidermy groundhog named after the Union Canal, being towed down the Tulpehocken Creek in a tiny boat. “That’s one of my favorites,” says Venos, who attended Uni’s ceremony last year. “They put this dead groundhog on a raft and pull it down the river. Then there is a guy who ‘talks’ to Uni, and gives his prediction in Pennsylvania Dutch. Another guy then translates from Pennsylvania Dutch into English.” The tongue-in-cheek aspect of Groundhog Day has become an essential component of these traditions. The elaborate pageantry of these largely male lodges and their fraternal ceremonies walk a fine line between faux earnestness and genuine absurdity. Take Octoraro Orphie’s tradition. In addition to performing skits and dancing a “Groundhog Jig,” new inductees to the lodge are outfitted with man-sized infant bonnets and pacifiers for their “baby year,” the lodge’s annual initiation rite. From each baby class, one is chosen for the quasi-baptismal honor of being “dunked” into the chilly Octoraro Creek on February 2nd. “They had to break the ice in the creek” for one friend’s baby year, recalls Bell. George “Skip” Lehman, Grand Communicator for Poor Richard, a taxidermized groundhog in York, Pennsylvania, says inductees to his lodge also don bibs and baby bonnets. The act of devotion that follows, however, might make a plunge into an icy creek seem like a Caribbean vacation: initiates must plant a kiss on the long-deceased mouth of their stuffed and mounted prophet. “We’re very safe, and he is sanitized,” says Lehman, a former local cable TV personality. “I don’t like to use the phrase ‘dry clean,’ but every other year we get him cleaned. Now, he doesn’t get dirty because he’s sealed in plastic. During COVID, we even had a little mask on him.” Lehmann, who says the funds raised from Poor Richard’s Groundhog Day ceremonies go to children’s charities such as St. Jude Children’s Hospital and Shriners Hospitals, demystified his prediction process—he consults the Farmer’s Almanac and local weathermen to make his forecast. “Then I read the predictions in poetic form,” he says. “Oh, God, they’re corny.” Pennsylvania Groundhogs aren’t the only animals getting in on the meteorological action either. “There are a lot of forecasters, and at this point, I might have just as many non-groundhogs as I do actual, live groundhogs,” says Venos, whose website compiles and tracks all the Groundhog Day predictions. “Just when I think my list is complete, I discover a new forecaster, like the alligator from Texas whose prediction is based on whether or not he eats chicken.” That alligator is 91-year-old Big Al, a 1,000 pound specimen who resides at Gator Country in Beaumont, Texas. “We’ve gone way past chicken at this point—he gets a nice steak dinner now,” says Arlie Hammonds, who, along with Gary Saurage, co-owns Gator Country, an adventure park and sanctuary that houses more than 450 alligators. “Whenever we do the Groundhog thing, I’ll go in the water and get him to open his mouth, and I’ll throw the steak in there. In the past, he has spit it out,” predicting six more weeks of winter (or so Hammonds attests). Similarly, followers of Scramble the Duck in Eastford, Connecticut, consider their aquatic prognosticator to be an “accurate alternative to the groundhog.” According to Isaac Torcellini, one of Scramble’s handlers, the waterfowl “graduated from Stormy Heights Academy and became Eastford’s weather predictor shortly thereafter.” “Scramble—and all ducks—are superior to groundhogs for a few reasons,” says Torcellini. “First, they spend time in the weather instead of hiding underground. Ducks commonly play in stormy weather and also have a sense of weather patterns for migration purposes.” Venos and his family have even added homemade sock puppet predictors Roxbury Rita, Edgewater Elsie, and Landing Lily to the lineup. Venos says he includes the “stats” of these puppets, created by himself and his daughters, on his page. “I’ve actually debated whether I should put those predictions in with the other ‘real’ ones,” Venos says. “But basically, as long as I’m not tipping the overall predictions one way or the other, I don’t have an issue with it. It’s another way to enjoy the day.” https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/alternative-groundhog-day-punxsutawney-phil

[underwaterfraulein]

Okay, but I am going to point out that Phil (human) SPECIFICALLY makes stopping Phil (groundhog) his goal at one point, and even THAT doesn't break the time loop. Prognosticating the weather is not bad for a quadraped, but allowing himself to be kidnapped and murdered by the very guy he's allegedly trying to punish?? I AIN'T BUYIN IT

punxsutawney phil is easily the most celebrated american to ever live despite having notably put that weatherman in the hell loop for around 33 years. we have to deplatform this marmot

[las-lus]

from the wikipedia article

"According to the lore, there is only one Phil, and all other groundhogs are impostors. It is claimed that this one groundhog has lived to make weather prognostications since 1886, sustained by drinks of "groundhog punch" or "elixir of life" administered at the annual Groundhog Picnic in the fall. The lifespan of a groundhog in the wild is roughly six years."

I also must add that the portuguese article doesn't say all other groundhogs are impostors. It says all other meteorologists are impostors.

THE LORE

I'm sorry the LORE

[writer59january13]

Groundhog day - Thursday, February 2nd 2023

The date of the celebration (the second day of February) coincides

with medieval feast of Candlemas,

and its pre-Christian predecessor,

Imbolc, a day also rich in folklore.

An old Scottish prophecy foretells

sunny weather on Candlemas

means a long winter.

The tradition is recounted in this poem:

As the light grows longer The cold grows stronger If Candlemas be fair and bright Winter will have another flight If Candlemas be cloud and snow Winter will be gone and not come again A farmer should on Candlemas day Have half his corn and half his hay On Candlemas day if thorns hang a drop You can be sure of a good pea crop.

Punxsutawney Phil is the focal point

of oldest and largest annual

Groundhog Day celebration,

held in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania,

every year since 1886.

Members of Phil’s “Inner Circle”

claim he is now 137 years old, (rumor circulates this one groundhog lived

to make weather prognostications

since 1886, sustained by drinks

of "groundhog punch"

or "elixir of life" administered

at annual Groundhog

Picnic in the fall),

hence thanks to said magical

life-extending serum

they feed him each year—

and his predictions

one hundred percent accurate.

Groundhog day - Thursday, February 2nd 2023

Coincides with astronomy's first cross-quarter day,

marking the midpoint between

winter solstice and spring (vernal) equinox,

which will occur at 5:24 PM on

in Northern Hemisphere

Eastern Standard Time

Monday, March 20, 2023

Small consolation old man winter

spans fewest days

of all four seasons,

especially when

A powerful nor'easter

will develop in western Atlantic

beginning late Friday,

(February third two thousand and twenty three)

bringing heavy snow,

strong winds and

coastal flooding to parts

of the East Coast,

but there remains

a larger than usual amount

of uncertainty in forecast

for this storm.

Yours truly remembers

when spry Jack (hoar) Frost

(just yea high -

both arms stretched to sky)

came early, left late and bossed

zealous vernal equinox

rattling barenaked lady branches

obviously inapropos

to budding friendship.

Now (courtesy global warming/ climate change)

mother nature experiences feeling strange

within valleys and atop many mountain range,

wherein goods traded away on stock exchange.

Fortunate concerning yours truly

versus daring to brave

inclement treacherous weather

getting stranded in the process

(possibly becoming gratefully dead)

risking life and limb venturing forth

amidst near whiteout conditions

creating debacle perilous and grave

shoveling snow lest he get buried

he can remain holed up

(in tandem with the missus)

snug as a bug in his mancave.

While nestled inside warm abode for awhile

(at least until temperature upwards doth dial

safely ensconced against elements (of style),

I stopped at metaphoric woods edge

trekking until... for no rhyme nor reason

the poetic metered equivalent,

viz another mile

then stopped for coffee break

burst of energy gave me cause to smile

fording imponderable stream of consciousness

impossible (airy) mission to dodge regarding

aforesaid daunting task to craft worthwhile

poetic endeavor to entertain anonymous readers

gleaning how one bard (with his shaky spear)

evokes fiction being snowbound

as if cast adrift within Siberian exile.

Straightaway I continue writing askew

aware how literary trademark modality

characteristic of one hapless wordsmith

unwittingly indelibly embedded

analous to mine Caucasian

versus swarthy melanin hue

man automatically confers eligibility granting

innumerable known mighty opportunities

(privileged skin color - how unfair)

bigoted prejudices shade those

either hashtagged as black,

naturally copper toned gentile and/or Jew.

[handeaux]

Cincinnati Welcomed Groundhog Day As We Abandoned The Candlemas Holiday Police

Among the earliest references in Cincinnati to Groundhog Day was an announcement by John P. Ohmer, proprietor of Ohmer’s Garden in the East End. Mr. Ohmer, a confectioner by trade, maintained a miniature zoo at his picnic grounds and informed the Cincinnati Enquirer on 10 February 1869 that his own personal groundhog had predicted a mild winter:

“I have a groundhog among my collection of animals in the Zoological Hall. I watched him on the 2d. He came out of his den at precisely two o’clock and has been out, more or less, every day since that time. I have been in the building every day during the winter, and had not seen him before since the 1st of October last. I have been in a business that depends on fine weather for eighteen years, and always calculated on groundhog’s day as a certain guide to go by.”

Although Mr. Ohmer was born in Paris, France, he based his business plan on a superstition widely attributed to Native American tribes. So did the ice harvesters of Urbana, Ohio. Before refrigeration, our ancestors kept food in the ice box – literally a box with a block of ice atop it. To have enough ice to last the year, ice harvesters needed a good, thick layer on northern lakes. The winter of 1862 had been so mild that it looked bad for the ice industry, but the groundhog came through, according to the Enquirer [6 February 1862]:

“We have encouragement, however, from the fact, that on Sunday last, February 2, being ground-hog day, the sun shone out brightly, enabling his hogship to see his shadow, and causing him to retire to his den, which is regarded by many as a sure prognostic of hard weather for some six weeks to come.”

All indigenous poppycock, according to University of Cincinnati Professor of Botany Harris Benedict, who in 1926 told a gathering of garden clubs at the Alms Hotel:

“February was called ‘month of the hunger moon’ by the Indians and many hibernating animals appeared for a new food supply during that period, among them the groundhog.”

Common Pleas Court Judge John A. Caldwell believed that country traditions such as Groundhog Day were valid only in the country, but lost their efficacy in the chaos of urban life. He told the Cincinnati Post [2 February 1905]:

“City chaps, however, don’t put so much faith in the little animal’s prediction or in the many other ways a country man can prognosticate the weather. Who ever heard of [Cincinnati Weather Bureau Director Simon S.] Bassler looking at the trees or sniffing the breeze to find out whether it was going to rain or not? Yet people in the country can tell by the rustle of the leaves and the feel of the air when a shower is coming.”

Despite the dismissal of the scientific community, a variety of Groundhog Day traditions appear to predate the discovery of the North American rodent by several centuries. Groundhog Day happens to coincide with the ancient feast of Candlemas, around which many similar superstitions accrue. The Cincinnati Gazette published one of these Candlemas predictions on 3 February 1866:

“If Candlemas day be clear and bright,

Then winter has taken another flight;

If Candlemas day brings clouds and rain,

Then winter is gone not to return again.”

Although Groundhog Day is rather festive, especially in little towns like Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, Candlemas carried some distinctly macabre connotations. If we see someone’s holiday decorations still hanging in May, we might joke about the “Holiday Police,” but the old folks were dead serious about Candlemas.

Candlemas is also known in various Christian sects as Feast of the Presentation of Jesus Christ, the Feast of the Purification of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and the Feast of the Holy Encounter. It marks the canonical end of the Christmas season, and enforcement was brutal. The Cincinnati Enquirer reported [29 July 1863] that all Christmas decorations must be removed from churches before Candlemas. If a single leaf or berry escaped detection, a death would ensue in the family whose pew was polluted by the festive remnant.

“An old lady (now dead) whom I knew, was so persuaded of the truth of this superstition that she would not be contented to leave the clearing of her pew to the constituted authorities, but used to send her servant on Candlemas eve to see that her own seat, at any rate, was thoroughly freed from danger.”

Apparently having dispensed with every speck of holiday glitter, the Cincinnati Business Men’s Club attempted to introduce a note of frivolity into its Ground-Hog Day observance in 1904 by offering “Ground-Hog with puree of split peas” on its luncheon menu. According to the Cincinnati Post [3 February 1904]:

“One well-known business man started to leave the table, protesting that he’d never heard of ground-hog being eaten, and that it made him sick to think about it. He was reassured, however, when he was told that the ‘ground-hog’ was merely pork sausages sailing under a nom de plume.”

The Cincinnati Post reported [2 February 1897] that people throughout the United States universally recognized Groundhog Day, but were thoroughly confused how to interpret the groundhog’s shadow or lack thereof:

“In some localities the saying is that if he sees his shadow Feb. 2 he will be scared back into his hole and winter will rage for six weeks longer. Others have it that if he sees his shadow he will stay out and play with it, because spring is at hand. So it becomes a ground-hog case.”

A “groundhog case,” a phrase no longer in much use, referred to a what was also called a Hobson’s Choice – a choice that was really no choice at all.