Midwest Specifics

Highway Patriotism

A Minnesotan Christmas: Belated

Getting There

Mannheim Steamroller, whiskey roads, streams of billowing snow crossing the highway, gas station stops and frozen lakes; all apart of our Christmas Eve venture to Battle Lake, Minnesota. 

Vocabulary

Colloquial Realization

I lack a certain vocabulary. I am without the words to describe snow. I speak rain. But snow doesn't sprinkle or pour. While far from fluent in any precipitation I know that a blizzard transcends the meaning of cats and dogs. I am in the need of new words. 

Snow Sky!

Snow Slang

Without proper terms and syntax I have created my own. Thus far in my life I have witnessed three kinds of snow:

1. Salting: 

A snow salting is comprised of a soft dusting of teeny tiny snowflakes; the way in which snow "sprinkles". 

Road Safety Issues = None

2. Christmas Time: 

Christmas Time snow occurs when quarter-sized fluffy flakes whirl and twirl as if existing in the final scene of any Christmas classic. To me, Christmas Time snow is reminiscent of Disneyland's perfectly perfect bubble soap snow that finishes December firework shows. 

Road Safety Issues = Slippery Streets

3. Blustery:

Blustery snow is a vengeant medium of the water cycle. Thick and thin walls of flakes dampen mittens and hide miles of scenery. Blustery snow is sharp with cold and leaves dirty brown ice in its wake. Once a blustery snowflake flew up my nose. The experience was unpleasant. 

Road Safety Issues = Lack of Visibility, Icy Roads & Thick snow-covered intersections

New Words

With the exception of the damned and determined blustery snowflake my time with snow has been new and nice. Finding words for foreign experiences reveals the deep poetry within all our lives. My life has been blessed with stanzas that captivate and comfort; a theme I wish for everyone.

SNOW WORLD, SNOW LIFE

Winter Wonder/Dangerland

EVERYTHING IS DIFFERENT, EVERYTHING IS NEW. To borrow a sentiment from Cindy Lou Who circa Jim Carey Grinch,  "My world is changing, its rearranging." That is, my world is now a SNOW WORLD. AND I LIVE A SNOW LIFE.

Fargo made it through Thanksgiving with the arrival of the tinniest runt-of-the-litter snowflakes. Preston and I retrieved JC Penny snow globes and other Black Friday booty in a still autumnal world. The post-Thanksgiving weekend trailed on with trips to Target and the unveiling of Preston's home-brewed cider.  We drank on the floor with friends and laughter. And the world was still brown.  But come Monday morning EVERYTHING CHANGED. EVERYTHING REARRANGED.

My Winterized Street

A foot of thick snow had descended overnight. It was beautiful. Side streets and fir trees were candy coated in powdery snow. Angular city edges were made soft. And bare tree branches glistened. The air was refreshingly cold. Each breath seemed to sweep away the remains of humid summer air still lingering in the corners of my lungs. My nose and cheeks flushed in the chill.

Pavement Perils 

This SNOW WORLD, SNOW LIFE  brought about a quest: driving to work in the snow. Before last Monday I had never even been on a snowy road before. And by the end of the day my F150 and I had traversed Fargo's snowy grid.

I bumped off curbs, slid through intersections and drove up a slushy hill at a forty-five degree angle. Driving cockeyed up the hill reminded me of California. My futile attempts to correct my back wheels were reminiscent of biking over Pacific sand dunes-when I used to live someplace warm, ever-so-long ago.

A Glazed Downtown

My struggles continued until the final stretch of my three mile drive. A drive that took twenty minutes. While sliding down Broadway a numerical button caught my eye. Its painted inscription read: 4X4. Four wheel drive is magnificent, a thousand thanks to the genius who invented the snow-friendly function. My day surged with an adrenal rush. The flood of post-trauma chemicals celebrated my survival and triumph over frosted pavement.  I fueled this feeling with eight cups of coffee. A choice I later regretted.

High Fashion

My SNOW WORLD, SNOW LIFE continued with a drastic temperature skydive. Come Thursday the warm thirties abandoned us. A reign of terror hosted by the negatives has taken hold over North Dakota. Yesterday I left for work in -14. To combat such a toxic atmosphere I created my own Arctic Tundra Survival Suit.

Suitin' Up

My ensemble consisted of: leggings, two pairs-one to hold up the leggings- of underwear, ugly socks, brand-new Uggs, Walmart gloves,  wool mittens, a pink North Face fleece, my birthday scarf, a Harlem souvenir hat,  a slouchy shirt-dress, and puppy pajama pants to complete the look. My co-worker Matt said that I looked like a five year old who dressed themself that morning.

Epilogue 

I have currently existed in several days of below zero temperatures. Preston and I even took a short jaunt afterwork in search of downtown Christmas presents. And I am pleased and shocked that I am somehow alive and existing. I am actually in shock that whole societies of people live and thrive outside of Mediterranean longitudes.

I had theorized that humans, like other animals, are meant to be naked and therefore should only live in habitats were one can be naked all the time. HELLO Palms Springs! Preston feels differently. He believes that humans have minds to make tools, such as clothes, and therefore can live anywhere they find a way to survive. 

And while it may not be up to my standards of "Natural Human Habitats" with the help of indoor heating, F150's and puppy pants I have endured my first week of winter. Against all odds. 

MIDWEST POINTS

Enduring my First Week of Winter-Against All Odds= 20 MIDWEST POINTS

Driving in Snow= 7 MIDWEST POINTS

Driving Poorly in Snow= -11 MIDWEST POINTS

Seeing Frozen Water for the First Time= 4 MIDWEST POINTS

Minne-Break Holiday-Apolis Returns

A Photographic Day Trip to Minneapolis

Part Two

Downtown & About

IKEA

Photograph of Interest

IKEA's use of stuffed animals = strewn carcasses on the Christmas tree?

Midwest Points

Catching a play in "The Cities" = 5 MIDWEST POINTS

Eating a burger with a hefty scoop of cream cheese = 2 1/2 MIDWEST POINTS

Awarded to Preston

Buying a King-Size Holiday Nerds pack at Target Headquarters = 1/4 MIDWEST POINTS

Driving for four hours without heat in 9 degrees = 6 MIDWEST POINTS

Wrapping up in IKEA towels, during said drive = -2 MIDWEST POINTS

Midwest Specifics

...que?

Midwestern Spanish at its finest.

PS Whale of a Wash is my 2nd favorite sign in Fargo

Midwest Specifics

Where other's try to hawk and sell, North Dakota reminds us of what we have. 

Alongside HWY 81

Pumpkin Patch POINTS!!

This week was our pumpkin week.We planned to paint, chisel and carve jack-o-lanterns Sunday afternoon. Rain, sleet or snow to the pumpkin patch we'd a-go. Flying south to Sydney last October caused a 2012 Fall vacancy. Pumpkins, wool sweaters and cider were needed in double force this year.

The Great Pumpkin

After googling the options, we decided on a local heirloom patch nestled between two highways. Nourished on banana pancakes and Lutheran coffee, we crossed over the Red River into Minnesota. After nearly missing the small segway road, Goldie, our jeep, splashed her way to our puddlely destination. Exhibit A is a glimpse of what we found. 

Exhibit A

Hello? Anybody home?

Midwest Me

Outside Goldie's fogged windows lay a forlorn gourd garden. It seemed that the caretakers abandoned the patch at the first drop of rainy-snow, or snowy-rain, depending on one's personal prerogative. Perhaps these Midwesterns weren't as sturdy as I thought. Or perhaps they are just smarter than two California's willing to wade, doggy paddle and trudge through mud, for the sake of a pumpkin. Whichever the case Thor, the bestower of Midwest Points, awarded me 4 MIDWEST POINTS for my hearty devotion despite ambiguous October precipitation. 

                                                                   Exhibit B

Casually Braving a Snow Sprinkle

                                                        4  MIDWEST POINTS

Slippers Weather

Taking a cue from the community garden caretakers Preston and I headed someplace cozy. Home. Without pumpkins to lobotomize our schedule freed up for some sunday sleepies. It's thirty-two outside and for the first time this year our heat is on. Outside the damp mix of raindrops and snowflakes remind us that winter is coming. BUT NOT BEFORE I GET A PUMPKIN. 

Dressed for the Occasion

There & Back Again

Back Again, For Real This Time 

Last Sunday Preston and I made a second attempt to reach the illustrious Little Yellowstone. Well informed of the desolate, in a North Dakota kind of desolate, and narrow route we made sure to bring supplies this time.We hit the road with two Subway foot longs and mug half full of coffee.

The Way

A long hour and half later we found a Midwest rarity, a change in elevation. Travel seems to stretch when the way is straight and flat. Paint chipped churches with broken bell-tower windows were the forms that dare break the silence of the prairie scene. Our jeep discovered the ebb and flow of land like a mounting roller coaster. The square grill leaned in and over the highway slope for only a moment before making the plunge into a peak of autumnal color.

There at Last

As RV's packed up and golden retrievers bounded for a final round of catch, Preston and I nestled in for a slightly colder than expected Sunday picnic. We soon discovered that our well earned victory of finally finding Little Yellowstone, did nothing for our body heat. After wolfing down our subs we saddled up in the jeep. It turns out scenic sights are all the more magnificent with the heat on.

Top Down

A couple of weeks back I was lent a convertible for the weekend. Such a state necessitates a drive. My boss recommended a visit to Fort Ransom. His directions were simple: head south out of town and turn onto a highway headed towards "Kindred". My Californian sensibilities of what a new highway looked like, led us to miss the exit. And instead we found ourselves in  South Dakota.  The glittery Dakota Magic greeted us at the state border. After two games of roulette and a hand of blackjack, we left with an additional $6 and a greater sense of direction. 

Upon heading north, we discovered that the "Kindred" highway had been fifteen minutes outside of Fargo. This time we made the exit, but were tempted by a new possibility. Veering from course we followed a pair of scenic binoculars down a dirt road. We switched the radio from our found: Taylor 92.7, "a station for any girl who's ever been dumped" a Taylor Swift only station, to KNDSU's student-run Sunday bluegrass hour. Like Alice's evasive white rabbit, the binoculars vanished, leaving behind a fork in the road.  

Signs of suburbia are few and far between in North Dakota. Strip malls and stop lights fade away four miles outside of Fargo city limits. Following the rearview mirror compass we wove through Dakota fields. The day's sun had retreated behind a calvary of storm clouds. North and West turns brought us to the western edge of our new city. Day was done. We went home without reaching our intended destination. We spent the day lost, without knowing it. And as it turns out being lost is generally the best way to find everything. 

Driving

The Complex Person That Is Me

HI

I have many askew character traits. I love hiking, but I am a fitness wimp. A half mile jaunt around cemented suburbia tires me out. I have been known to ask for a piggy back ride from anyone half-willing and able. And when asking doesn’t work I will fling.

Another dualistic example can be found in my college days. Completely unlike the halcyon lull of my high school senior year, my final college semester was jam packed with essays on Metaphysics, Heidegger readings and my capstone. When I wasn't researching my senior thesis on the parallels between Nietzsche’s Dionysian and Apollonian archetypes and Ecclesiastes aphorism in the original Hebrew, I was ravenously watching every Kardashian and Real Housewives E! and Bravo could throw at me.

My recent swing fluctuates between my inner-house cat desires to roll around all day and my serious distaste for being cooped up. Caught somewhere between relaxed and restless country drives have been feeding my sloth and eager appetites.

The Route

HI

Our most recent drive took us toward Henning, Minnesota. To be honest I don’t know what direction that is in. Maps, iPhones and compasses are banned from our four wheel drive wanderings. Instead Preston and I take turns deciding left or right.   

The Grub

HI

I am not ashamed to say that Dairy Queen was our first stop. And better yet it was a deal. For five whole dollars we feasted on fries, burgers, pop* and sundaes. Not to mention our cashier may have been the nicest and most enthusiastic employee I have ever encountered. He gave us a complete rundown on every single sundae topping option and skillfully entered my burger guidelines. Not mention, Dairy Queen carries Mountain Dew. WIN.

*D'ya you like my local speak? J

The Sights

HI

Hay stacks decorate Minnesota’s July. Behind old fences and next to grain towers the giant nursery rhyme favorites overlook the summer fields. Rusted John Deere tractors carry the stacks to their barn like a groom carrying his bride over the threshold.

 The fields pause to let in a small artisan town, Vining Minnesota. The tiny city boasts an astronaut and steel artist celebrities. Antique shops neighbor the gas station/outdoor gallery just a few miles short of Ellington Lake.

 I can’t give direct you to places we went. But I can tell you there were dirt roads, cottonwoods and a  Dairy Queen lunch special along the way. 

Question for You: Do you like getting lost? 

My Answer: Growing up with my mom in the driver's seat has led me down a path of never knowing which way is which. As a result I think the location of "being lost" has always familiar homecoming for me. Y tu?