The Shortest Month

I must confess that February is not my favorite month. Oh, sure, on the calendar, it's the shortest. But in the real world, February has a nasty tendency to stretch out far beyond what is decent and acceptable in polite society. That said, I'll still admit that the groundhog (aka "woodchuck") is sort of fun.

In my part of the world, February is a trickster. Think of it as the Joss Whedon of months. (Ignore the part in parentheses if that last sentence confused you.) We'll have days that are warm enough to make you wish for a convertible. You're walking along with a spring in your step, taking note of the optimistic crocuses and jonquils poking their tender little heads up above the once-cold earth, providing a visual promise that spring is a-coming. (Look, Fred and Wesley are finally getting together! Yay and it's about time!) Then, just as your heart is thawing toward the minx of a month, WHAMMO!! Three days of cold, miserable, steel-grey rain will come slashing down. ("Why can't I stay?" followed by "Yes, please.")

Sigh.

Well, there's no way out except through it. And it's not all bad - the underdog Giants beat the Patriots in the Super Bowl in a game that truly separated the boys from the Manning. (Rimshot!)

So it's time to find out, once and for all - how much wood can a woodchuck chuck, if a woodchuck could chuck wood?