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One of my favorite holidays is coming up. It’s even better than Ground Hog Day. If you’re like me, and you start getting spring fever on the first day of winter, you’ll love this holiday, too.

Monday, February 20 is Northern Hemisphere Hoodie-Hoo Day. There are no presents to buy. No decorating to do. No baking to be done. No work involved at all. To celebrate, put on springy clothes, grab your sunglasses, a handkerchief or something similar, and go outside at 11:55 am. Look for the sun. Think about all the things you love about spring:  warmer weather, flowers, thunderstorms, warmer weather, short sleeves, iced tea, warmer weather, etc. At high noon (local time) face the sun, wave your handkerchief, and call out, “Hoodie-Hoo! Hoodie-Hoo!” Yes! Out LOUD! This is no time for timidity. Just like when we were kids and our intense hand-clapping saved Tinkerbelle’s life, our collective cries of “Hoodie-Hoo!” will chase away winter and usher in spring. So put your heart into it. Who cares if the neighbors stare and point over the fence? It’s fun. And besides, they’ll thank us soon enough.

Then get ready. Order that seed catalog. Sharpen your mower blades. Buy a new jar for sun tea. Spring is on its way. Target already has swimsuits in stock. They know it won’t be long now before we’ll all be spreading GrubEx and grass seed and listening for the ding-ding-ding of the ice cream truck. I can almost taste that cherry Bomb Pop now…

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For more information on Northern Hemisphere Hoodie-Hoo Day, and to see a few photos of past celebrations, visit


     When the weather is nice, my husband takes a walk in the morning. He gets his exercise for the day while picking up cans and watching the sunrise. He varies his route between back roads and highways, and while he’s walking he finds things. All sorts of things. And he brings them home. Things like credit cards, smashed cell phones, hubcaps, pieces of clothing, deflated balls, sunglasses, and run-over ball caps. Mostly useless things, like the day he brought home Bobble Jesus.
     I hated it the minute I saw it. Why would anyone make such a thing? Or buy it? Or bring it home from a walk? The next thing I knew, it had been affixed to the top of my refrigerator. In my kitchen.
     The kids got a kick out of leaning it over to one side and letting go to watch it bobble back and forth. So did the cats. I nick-named it Bobble Jesus and figured the thrill would wear off, hopefully by trash day, and I could get rid of it. But it’s been seven months and it’s still there. Here’s why.
     As I went about my daily tasks of fixing meals and folding laundry at the kitchen table, under the watchful eye of Bobble Jesus, the thing grew on me. It reminded me that the real Jesus promised to keep his eye on me. It reminded me of his constant presence in my life. That he was available 24/7 to hear a prayer, a complaint, or supply me with needed wisdom.
     At first, I hated it when one of the kids made Jesus bobble. I called out, “Stop it! Leave it alone.” But one day I realized that too often in this life we leave Jesus alone. We don’t touch him or make him a part of our day. We don’t interact with him. Every now and then, when no one is looking, I give him a nudge myself and watch him go.
     So Bobble Jesus is still on the fridge. Yes, it’s stupid and corny and silly, but I like it. I don’t worship it, but I do worship the one it reminds me of. And now when one of the cats sends Jesus into motion with a swipe of a paw, I laugh – and shoot up a prayer of thanksgiving for the reminder that Jesus is constantly on the move in my life.