Weeeeeeeeeellll…it snowed.  Actually, as I type this, it’s snowing.  The National Weather Service is predicting a melt later this week, but still – the proverbial ranch dressing is out of the bottle, isn’t it.  It’s not like there all the old timers are sitting around the Coffee Corner reminiscing, “It used to rain white sands and coconuts and I had to walk to school in my Bermuda shorts and Tevas uphill both ways.”  The moment the first leaf turns from green to orange, North Dakota collectively sucks a deep breath in because…it’s coming.  We know it’s coming.  It never not comes.  It’s just a matter of WHEN.

Snow in December is a magical fairyland.  Snow in October is a sucktastic bummer.  It’s such a sucktastic bummer that the one thing all Midwesterners have in common is a story about the sucktastic bummer of a costume they had to wear the one year it snowed on Halloween.  Our neighbor’s front porch skeleton currently looks like the character Jack at the end of The Shining, which is a great idea for a decoration if you’re in, like, California, but loses its amusement around here.

Anyways, it snowed.  Related, it’s cold.  Not COLD-cold, but certainly colder than the 50-degree weather we were enjoying when the weather was Normal Autumn.  I was not prepared for the cold.  I’ve been telling people I wasn’t prepared because it came so early and was so abrupt, but if I’m being honest with myself, I’m never prepared.  When I was in college, I got such a kick out of the warm-weather students on their first day of never-before-seen snow – bundled up in parkas appropriate for an Antarctic expedition, ducking underneath open umbrellas, and kicking up flakes in boots purchased from Eskimos.  I, on the other hand, have lived in snowy states my entire life and it took me three days post-freezing temperatures this year to start wearing socks because I…forgot, I guess.  I forgot that Bermuda shorts and Tevas weren’t appropriate attire for the cold.

And in case you think I’m alone in this, I dropped my twelve-year-old off at the hockey rink mid-snowfall and one of my girlfriends called me over to her car and I shouted,

“I can’t, you come over here,” and then I lifted up my foot to show I was sockless and in Birkenstocks; and so then she said,

“I can’t either,” and lifted up her own Birkenstocked (North Dakotans like wearing the same clothes as one another so that we look like a team) foot.

This kind of thing drives Kyle insane.  Insane.  Kyle is completely unbothered by burned suppers, powerless power tools, surprise travel changes, and being a lifetime fan of the most frustrating team in the NHL (Oilers) – but if he sees a college student walking down the street in a light flannel and ballet flats with more than zero snowflakes on the ground, HIDE YER WINTER UMBRELLAS because Kyle is now on the rampage.

Kyle is North America’s Amanda-proclaimed amateur expert on world war history.  Throughout time, military battles have been won and lost due to clothing choices, especially related to footwear.

“You always want your feet to be clean and dry,” Kyle has told me on several occasions.

“My feet are clean and dry,” I have replied.

“You’re standing in a pile of slush wearing flip-flops so I highly doubt it,” Kyle has said.

Here’s the thing: North Dakota has a wide range of cold.  Right now, we are in what we would consider “Barely Cold,” which is similar on the temperature scale to “The Sun Has Burned Out and All the World is a Desolate Ice Landscape” if you are from Arizona.  If a North Dakotan (namely, me) started wearing sherpa socks and fur-lined boots in “Barely Cold,” by the time we reached “Holy Balls It’s Cold” I’d have to go to work with a live polar bear wrapped around me and that just sounds like a whole bunch of problems.  What do I do with the polar bear while I’m driving?  Do I sit on its lap?  It’s too much to consider.

A few Novembers ago, back when we lived in the country, Kyle and I had our friend’s daughter out to babysit.  The temperature was hovering around zero; “Okay It’s Cold” on the scale.  Across the gravel road from our property was a deceivingly-deep ditch, and when the babysitter backed out of our driveway, she went right back into the ditch and got stuck.  Kyle, shovel in hand, headed out to help.

From our front window, I watched Kyle, jolly as could be, cross the gravel road.  Our babysitter opened her car door and stepped out.  And Kyle stopped dead in his tracks because our babysitter was wearing backless clogs without socks, yoga pants, a sweatshirt, and gloves, and that was it.

For the next fifteen minutes, Kyle shoveled and lectured.  He lectured on the importance of a car survival kit (she had one at home), appropriate footwear (she was going from our heated garage to her own so why bother), a jacket (everyone knows 20-year-olds don’t feel cold), and a beanie (she had her hair in a ponytail).  By the time he finished, both she and I had learned an important lesson on winter preparedness: don’t let Kyle see what you’re wearing.

Yesterday, our eight-year-old went out to play in the backyard.  He was covered head-to-toe in winter gear, thanks to his father.  Our twelve-year-old, on the other hand, was wearing shorts.

“Better go put pants on before Dad sees,” I said.

“It’s not cold enough for pants,” Twelve said.

“That’s what you think,” Kyle called from the next room.

The photo above was taken on Halloween. Kyle and I wear our letterman jackets every year, which continues to be a great (specifically, warm) choice.

This week on North Dakota Today we talked about Bonnie’s Pollinator Patch and McKenzie County Schools’ Community Cleanup.  Check it out!  (Valley News Live)

A group of local Home Depot employees and volunteers showed up to help Minot’s Bob Ware move to his new digs. (Minot Daily News)

I love, love, love Halloween, in part because of people like Grand Forks’ Jack Dekker who open their hearts and homes go give kids a fun night. (Grand Forks Herald)

Halloween Town?  Snow problem. (KFYR TV)

Fargo’s Dr. Karrie Pederson and Eric Larson camped out of the roof of Kennedy Elementary after the students walk-a-thoned past their goal. (Valley News Live)

Eleven-year-old Maxum Molstad of Walhalla threw his 4th annual haunted house fundraiser – he’s raised almost $60,000 – in support of a Frost Fire. (Fargo Forum)

Congratulations to Grand Forks’ Chuck Black, winner of the 2023 Federal Duck Stamp Art Contest. (Grand Forks Herald)

Grand Forks/Williston’s Virgil Hill is the latest recipient of the Rough Rider Award. (Fargo Forum)

As a reminder, I’ll be appearing on North Dakota Today on Monday mornings. Tune in, and send me the people and stories that are nice.  Thank you in advance!

ALSO as a reminder, Kyle now has a North Dakota hockey podcast on Pulltab Sports. It’s called “North Dakota After Dark” and he hosts it with our friends Kelly and Corey. Episode 11 with Margo Miller is now up. Click here to listen.