Are we there yet? Well, not quite, but I am looking through the tunnel and I can almost see the light. I raked my roof yesterday for what I hope will be the final time this season. I threw Ice Melt on the ground in hopes of seeing the pavers that lie beneath the nasty, uneven crap that has become my driveway. Yes folks, we have hit the Dog Days of Winter. Melt baby, MELT!!!
Before all this glorious snow gives way to green leaves and grass, let's not forget about all the fun times we had this winter. So often my West Coast friends say, "How the hell do you do it?" Or, more directly, "WHAT the hell do you do for all those, long, dark months?"
Well, my West Coast pals, this one's for you.
Here in what is most certainly known as God's Country (insert chuckle #1) we spend most weekends drinking coolers full of PBR in heated shacks while sitting around a hole in the ice that we popped open with a giant corkscrew (insert chuckle #2) waiting for a catch. Yeah baby, ice fishing!
With a backpack full of bologna sandwiches and a flask or two of Peppermint Schnapps's we tell Ole and Lena jokes until our faces are frozen then hop on our snowmobiles with one eye open and hope we make it across the vast frozen wasteland that doubles as a recreational lake in the summertime while dodging the DNR. Needing at least one bump before making it all the way home, we beach our sleds at the nearest dive bar where the Juke Box (yeah, I said Juke Box) plays only Country and you pull a frozen pizza out of a cooler and hand it to the frosted hair beauty behind the bar and tell her to pop it in for ya while she mixes you a Folger's and buttered rum concoction. Hopefully by now you are sober enough to jump into your pick-up (watch the gun rack) with two eyes open to be home in time for Cheer's reruns.
Typical day in Minnesota, right? OOOOHHHH NOOOO.
(Can't you just hear the accent?)
Ummm, Minnesota friends, I hate to inform you, but this is what so many folks on the Left Coast believe we do with our time from December to April. I kid you not. Don't be offended, it's all right. Let them think we are a collection of bumpkins with missing teeth and a taste for processed, salted meats.
But let's be honest here, winter can be long. It can bleak. It can be downright depressing when you don't breathe fresh air for 48 hours at a stretch, but I gotta hand it to ya, my hearty Midwestern comrades- you know how to have a hellava good time!
www.pedalpub.com.
Betcha never heard of this West Coasties- peddling around your own sixteen seater personal pub from bar at bar. Quite a novel way to do a pub crawl AND keep the PBR flowing! Fun stuff.
(Never mind the Lederhosen on the fella in the middle.)
We play a miniature form of tennis with a paddle. In a cage. In the snow with a heated floor. Even when it's 8 degrees. OK, it sounds weird, but it's cool.
And then there is the cross country skiing, the snowshoeing, the hockey, the downhill skiing.
We earn our stripes here in The Heartland and we wear them with dignity and honor. It takes a special person to be able to handle life in this freezing little corner of the world.
I am proudly sewing my "I Survived my Fourth Winter in Minnesota" on my knee- length North Face jacket. Yup, you betcha. I've made it (almost) four years and have not gone criminally insane. Yet.
