Wait, haven’t you already read this post?
On the historical significance of Groundhog Day
Astronomical winter starts with the solstice (~December 21), the shortest day of the year. Astronomical spring begins with the vernal equinox (~March 20), when the length of the day finally exceeds the length of the night. (All that, from a Northern Hemisphere perspective.)
These dates are the heavy hitters of the astronomical/theological calendar. Many cultures have celebrations vaguely tied to these dates. For Christians, that’s Christmas (whose date used to be a couple of weeks later than it is now, but still close to the solstice), and Easter (roughly speaking, the first Sunday following the first full moon following the vernal equinox, except sometimes (reference).
Sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with those planetary and religious titans is … Groundhog Day. Or the festival of Candelmas. What we term Groundhog Day is the midpoint between solstice and equinox, where winter finally turns toward spring.
According to Biblical scholars, this is the day on which the infant Jesus was presented at Temple and, consistent with long-standing Hebraic tradition, was asked to forecast the next six weeks’ weather.
The crazy Groundhog Day rituals observed in the U.S. and Canada are a degenerate relic of ancient and far more sensible European traditions. On or around the midpoint between winter solstice and spring equinox, it was folkloric tradition to look for signs that hibernating animals were beginning to stir. Badgers, bears, and so on. The particular animal varied, but the basic idea was the same everywhere. If animals were breaking hibernation early, that was taken as a sign that the second half of winter was apt to be mild. In essence, if wild animals appeared to be expecting an early spring, then so should humans. (This, via Wikipedia.)
Not terribly scientific, but vastly less crazy than the modern counterpart. Particularly if you realize that the folklore developed centuries before the invention of the thermometer, let alone systematic recording of weather data. Under those conditions, hibernating animals may have been the best indicator available for estimating cumulative degree-days between mid-winter and spring.
Planning a garden. Again.
In my fifth year of serious vegetable gardening, I’ve found my simple answers to many issues with gardening in the ‘burbs in climate zone 7.
Fertilizer? Use your fallen leaves. Compost. Test before you fertilize. Be sparing with concentrated (chemical) fertilizers.
Dry? Irrigation.
Deer? Electric fence.
Mildew? Bonide copper soap. Early.
Bugs? Trap. Dodge. Avoid. When in doubt, use soap. If you really feel the need to spread poisons on your garden, to grow something, for fun, rethink it.
All of this is written up, in various posts, here. If I had to pass along a single bit of advice that it took me years to learn, it’s this:
Varieties? Choose wisely.
Arguably the single largest mistake I made, in starting out, was going down to the hardware store and picking seeds off the rack. It was a vegetable beauty contest, of sorts. It was fun, it was stress-free, but ultimately it wasn’t smart. In some cases (peas, okra), I more-than-doubled my yield with no change other than picking a better variety than what I picked at random off the rack.
If you’re going to go to all this effort, you might as well get some bang-for-the-buck. And in this case, the internet is your friend, if you know how to use it.
The world of available varieties seems overwhelming. But seed catalogs and vendors stretch the truth. Look for sites that have comments from people who have actually grown the plants. Seek out varieties that are independently recommended by numerous people. And start from there.
And don’t sweat it. If it all works out, you can repeat the process next year.
