On Feb. 2, a groundhog dubbed Punxsutawney Phil poked his head out of his cage, saw his shadow and predicted we would have six more weeks of winter.

His rival in the furry weather predicting game is named Staten Island Chuck, who, by the way, claims to have an 80 percent accuracy rating. Chubby Chuck waddled out of his burrow into a cloudy day. He saw no shadow, meaning look for an early spring, said his followers.

No matter which of the dueling whistle pigs you choose to believe, if any, shouldn’t we be seeing spring by now? The calendar says Groundhog Day was six weeks ago.

According to folk custom, their predictions say we should be seeing buds on the trees, delicate snowdrops swaying in the sunlight, and dozens of little green noses peeking out of the garden leaves.

Not so at my little house in the woods.

One of the first signs of spring is the help wanted ads in my favorite newspaper advertising summer jobs aplenty in our tourist community.

Our inns and restaurants are getting ready for the season. It seems most of the local guys who can swing a hammer or mud up a drywall are on the clock.

I am told there are 40-plus construction workers helping to get Paul Coulombe’s new Rocktide Inn ready for opening day. The word is that most of them are locals, and that is good news for our friends and neighbors.

These are usually signs of spring but just look outside. Do you see green grass? Are the hummingbirds flittering around the bird feeder?

Mother Nature, what gives?

It looks like the quaint folk custom of predicting spring based upon the reactions of fat furry forest critters is a bit off this year.

In searching for signs of spring I turned to modern technology and clicked on all three local TV stations. Surely they could tell us that spring is on the way.

Wrong. Looking out from our trusty flat screen, we found a gaggle of fresh-faced friendly folks with semi-official names, like “Storm Team” or “Weather Authority.”

All of them stood in front of green screens as they tried to explain why low-pressure readings off the coast mean high snowfalls in our driveways.

To back up their claims, they use arcane technical terms like millibars and gradients to punctuate their pitch.

In my book, a millibar might be a creepy crawling bug and a gradient could signal the bad score I once earned on a spelling test.

These weather teams are a far cry from the old days when WMTW’s Marty Engstrom broadcast from the top of Mt. Washington. He used to poke his head out of the window to see if it was snowing.

In memory of Marty, I just looked out the window and saw white stuff coming down from an angry sky. Starting on Tuesday, it snowed and snowed and snowed some more. Rats.

Last week, I was sure it was time for spring, so I stowed the snow shovels in the garage. Now, it was time to get them out and make sure there was plenty of gas in the snow blower.

Nothing to do now but hunker down, and hope the power stays on.

This time, instead of spending the day watching reruns of “NCIS” or the ongoing train wreck in the nation’s capital, we clicked off the TV, got out a picture puzzle and began the slow process of assembling some 1,000 tiny pieces into a scene from “Downton Abbey.” Best of all, my bride is in the kitchen and talking about baking something.

Last weekend, we switched to daylight savings time. According to the New York Times, this semi-annual chore signals the imminent arrival of spring.

My dictionary says if something is imminent, it means it is about to happen. A glance outside shows that prediction, even if it was in the Times,  is a little bit off.

Our school officials, exercising caution, declared a snow day which was good news for the kids who got a day off school. The bad news is it looks like they will have to make up their lost school days until sometime in June. Bummer.

As we once again pull on our L.L. Bean jackets, our red wool stocking caps and reach for the snow shovels, here is a guaranteed sign of spring.

At 2:05 p .m. on April 3, the Red Sox will open their season at Fenway Park against the Pittsburgh Pirates.

The team website says tickets are still available   I can’t wait to hear the umpire say “Play ball.”