Happy Belated Groundhog Day!

The greatest prognosticator of all prognosticators has spoken!

Phil's official forecast as read 2/2/07 at 7:28 a.m. at Gobbler's Knob:

El Nino has caused high winds, heavy snow, ice and freezing temperatures in the west.
Here in the East with much mild winter weather we have been blessed.

Global warming has caused a great debate.
This mild winter makes it seem just great.

On this Groundhog Day we think of one thing.
Will we have winter or will we have spring?

On Gobbler's Knob I see no shadow today.
I predict that early spring is on the way.

So, Phil has said Spring is on it's way. Well, I guess that's good news.

We've always wanted to visit Punxatauney.

For you see, valued readers, Groundhog Day is our wedding anniversary.

No, this was not planned. It just happened that way.

I graduated from college in May. As I got in the long-ass line to recieve my diploma, I noticed some people were holding up a big painted sheet with the words "WILL YOU MARRY ME?" on it. My first thought was, "Gee. That's nice. What a lucky girl."

Then I noticed Auntie Onion-Dip holding up one corner of the sign. Gulp. The sign was for me.

I made my way up to the stage. I told the announcers that the sign was for me and that I would like to answer. The gentleman announced my name as he handed me my diploma and the microphone. "Yes, (insert Huzbends name here), I will marry you!" I said. This was followed by the thunderous cheers and applause of the couple thousand people in attendance. Nothing like putting me on the spot. Jeez.

The plan was to wait until Huzbend graduated and then get hitched. He was going to graduate in December of that same year. I always make fun of him because it took him longer to graduate than me. He always has to remind me that it was because he took a semester to do a work study program that allowed him to take me to Disney World for the first time. Nyaaa-nyaaaa, I still graduated first. Tee-hee.

After Huzbend graduated, the plan was to wait and get married in mid-July. We were going to have a JP marry us at a picnic. After the shortest ceremony we could possibly have, we would chow on 'dogs & burgers and play a kick-ass game of family vs. family soccer.

But, this was not to be. No disrespect to our parents or anything, but we wanted OUT. We couldn't see living at home all the way until July. There was really no reason to wait that long.

February 2nd just happened to fit the bill perfectly. We had moved in to our first apartment a week earlier and the 2nd fell on a Friday. I don't think we even realized that it was Groundhog Day.

We took our vows at a local Italian restaurant with close family and a small gaggle of friends in attendance. I was almost late to the proceedings because I had to wait for the cable guy to set up service in the apartment.

Huzbend wore jeans and a tie with Tigger on it. I wore a green jumper. A good time was had by all. After the ceremony, we asked our friends back to our tiny apartment. We watched "Fist of the North Star" on our borrowed TV while finishing off the wedding cake. For our honeymoon, we went to the mall the next day to spend some gift certificates.

That's how it all began. And now, it's been 11 years. ELEVEN freakin' years. I am NOT even gonna tell you how long we were together BEFORE we were married. You all know anyways.

It wasn't a stellar anniversary. Huzbend was really sick and stayed home from work. As a surprise I prepared London Broil with Steak Sauce gravy, Cheesy Smashed potatoes and greenbeans for dinner. Sounds complicated, right? To tell you the truth, it WAS the most complicated thing I have ever cooked. As you all know, I don't cook.

It really wasn't that hard and it came out pretty decent. Thanks, Rachel Ray.

I got Huzbend's cold the next day. So far, K-T has escaped. The weekend was awash in boogers and used tissues. Not a pretty sight.

To put things in perspective, I shall leave you all with a little sampling of poetry. This specific selection was written by my Father. I tell you chaps, it is because of him that I am blessed with such excellent diction. I hope that he does not become cross at seeing his private, heart felt words upon this page. It is only with the highest regard that I publish them here.

Roses are Red,
Eleven years. Congratulations.
Now put down the card,
And go have Relations.