And that is not a complaint.
Having whined incessantly about the heat all summer, I promised I would take whatever winter dished out. Actually, here in the Coulee Region where winter winds can howl unmercifully and snowfalls can be wickedly large, we’ve been lucky.
Just 167 miles away at my sister’s in the Twin Cities — yes, I’ve driven it often enough to know the exact mileage door to door — she was battling 6 inches of snow last night as she tried to back her van into the garage.
All we got here was some cold drizzly rain, a reminder that I need to turn off the water tap to the outside faucets.
One thing we did get, though were windchills, which I kept in mind as I bundled up like Frosty to go for a walk today. If you dress warmly enough, you can walk in almost any kind of winter weather, even the kind where they tell you windchills are so dangerous you should stay inside. What’s that weather guy knowing standing in his 68 degree studio? I am walker, watch me stride.
The only thing I really fear in winter is ice. The most intrepid and savvy walker knows there is little that can withstand a sheet-of-glass ice that was created by a rain-sleet mix the night before.
So I will walk in snow. I will walk in cold. I will walk in wind. But please, Santa, save the ice for the North Pole.