This morning, as is tradition, Puxatawney Phil emerged from his burrow on Gobblers Kob to predict the weather. He saw his shadow, and we're in for another six weeks of winter.
He wouldn't have seen his shadow in my front yard. Three days of miserable, misting, cold weather have everyone in a grand funk. Belle and I have to get out today, to attend a military ceremony. Grandson Quinton's unit is taking the first step on a deployment. They are leaving Camp Beauregard to meet the main body at Jackson Barracks in New Orleans, thence to Fort Hood for pre-deployment training. Eventually, heading to Kuwait.
I am more concerned about him being at Fort Hood during February than I am about him going to Kuwait. Fort Hood can be miserable this time of year. Still, he is off on a grand adventure and I wish I were going with them.
As opposed to Ft Hood in July? I remember that (not fondly). I was wishing for winter months.
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