Carry On

The older I get the more people I know who pack up and head south for the winter. Along with growing closer to that age group come questions regarding any pending plans for my own departure (Minnesota, not Earth). Although I enjoy traveling, I continue to resist any southern draw. True, my wife and I did drive to Missouri and Arkansas for a week in October, but I hardly think that counts.

Still, I like being here in the winter. One year, when I was a kid, my family spent Christmas in the Arizona desert with my cousins at their home. They had presents and a bright star in the east to remind us what Christmas is all about, but with cactus instead of trees in their yard, a real Christmas tree was not an option for them. It was memorable, but just not the same as a Minnesota holiday.

I guess that’s one of the things keeping me here. The thought of spending Christmas in a warm climate just wouldn’t seem right. Perhaps it’s my own quirky character of not wanting to go too far from home for any extended stay. Maybe it’s a couple little boys that call me “Pa” and my daughter and son that keep me here. I also have a few friends I see from time to time, I like our old farm, and I still enjoy going to my office. Plus, I am comfortable with the cold and snow.

It’s been awhile since I have stepped into skis, put on ice skates, rode a snowmobile or fished through ice, yet I still favor winter even when it’s cold enough to have your nose fall off. So, while I don’t participate in what are considered traditional winter activities, I have found that wood splits easier when it’s froze; the fire is more comfortable when it’s cold outside, the candle light is softer on a winter night, books lend themselves to a longer session of reading and the cold, crisp air feels good in my lungs when trudging though the snow.

This has been a unusual winter. Rain and temperatures in the forties make it seems more like March with the scent of spring in the air. This month the gravel road in front of our place that is dry and dusty in the summer, has gone from a hard frozen path to at one time being almost impassable with heavy snow. Then the rain came and turned it into a skating rink, which made walking to the mailbox a balancing act. Now with the warmth, the road has become like over-cooked oatmeal slopping up the sides of my truck so that even a two-year old grimaces over the grime, as my grandson told his mom today, “Pa’s truck needs to be washed”.

White Christmas is gone and we are left with a messy January thaw,

Our long awaited Christmas tree storage bag was finally delivered, so we took the tree down and put it in the bag for safe keeping.  The bag is large enough to stuff Santa himself in there. It looks like we’ll have to stay put for the winters, because the bag is so big it would never pass as a carry-on for a flight south.