“If I have a weenie roast tomorrow,” my sister-in-law, Jennifer, asked me last week in Saskatchewan, “will you come over?”

“Obviously, yes,” I said, because obviously, yes.  Yes because my sister-in-law of 20 years continues to bat a thousand when it comes to inviting me to awesome stuff; and yes because Dr. Seuss’s “The Sneetches” taught me that weenie roasts are the who’s who of social gatherings.

In case you need a refresher, in brief:

“Now, the Star-Belly Sneetches
Had bellies with stars. 
The Plain-Belly Sneetches
Had none upon thars…
When the Star-Belly Sneetches had frankfurter roasts
Or picnics or parties or marshmallow toasts,
They never invited the Plain-Belly Sneetches. 
They left them out cold, in the dark of the beaches.”

While I’m handing out refreshers, here’s another: Jenn is married to Kyle’s middle brother, Keith.  Kyle and Keith also have a younger brother named Riley.  Keith and Jenn live in the country about a mile away from my father-in-law Lionel’s house, and I may or may not have gotten lost walking back from Keith and Jenn’s house a couple of years ago (I did; click here).

The next day, after Jenn confirmed the weenie roast was a go, I pulled my snowpants on over my fleece-lined yoga pants, wrapped Kyle’s scarf from my forehead to my bellybutton, and announced to Lionel, Kyle, and Riley that I was going to walk over to Keith and Jenn’s and would meet them there.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”  Kyle asked me.

“It’s pretty cold outside,” Riley said.

“I’ll be fine,” I told them.  “But give me a ten-minute head start in case I need a ride.”

The sun was shining, the air was icy and crisp, every branch was covered in frost, and it was such an enjoyable walk that I said “This is a very enjoyable walk” out loud to no one.  Ten minutes into my walk, Lionel rolled up.  He gave me a thumbs up through the car window.  I gave him a thumbs up.  He drove on, and I walked on.

Twelve minutes into my walk, Riley and my nephew rolled up.

“You good?”  He shouted through the car window.

“I’m good!”  I shouted back.  He drove on, and I walked on.

Fifteen minutes into my walk, Kyle and the boys rolled up.

“Would you like a ride?”  He shouted through the car window..

“No thanks!”  I shouted back.

He drove on, and I walked on – roughly 500 more feet, because I had reached Keith and Jenn’s.

Jenn had a lovely fire going in the fire pit in the backyard.  On a table nearby sat metal skewers, hot dogs, buns, ketchup, and mustard.  On the ground nearby sat Keith and Jenn’s two dogs, Sako and Peli; Peli was doing a good job, and Sako was doing a less-good job, pretending like there wasn’t a stack of hot dogs nearby.  My ten-year-old son and my ten-year-old niece were rolling around in the snow in their snowsuits.  Jenn was stoking the fire, Lionel was brushing snow off of lawn chairs so we could sit by the fire, and Kyle was whittling pokers out of willow branches.

“There are hot dog sticks right here,” I told him, pointing to the pile of metal skewers.

“Those are for rubes,” Kyle said.  He speared three hot dogs with his sharpened willow stick and stuck them in the fire.

The smell of the hot dogs attracted the teenagers from inside the house.  My 17-year-old niece’s boyfriend came out in only a t-shirt, and my niece’s shrew of an aunt (me) sent him back to get a coat because even though it was sunny and there was a fire going the temperature was still 12 below zero.  We (“we” – I didn’t do anything but stand there and pet the dogs and yell at the boyfriend) fed the littlest kids first, then the teenageriest kids second, then the grownups third, and then the teenagers fourth, fifth, and sixth because all of their legs recently and simultaneously hollowed out and we can’t keep them full.

I ate my hot dog with ketchup and mustard.  The bun was a little frosty and the hot dog was a little charred and the whole thing was deeelish.

With each round of hot dogs the tip of the willow stick burned more and more until there was only enough stick for three more weiners – which worked out because one of Keith and Jenn’s friends came riding up on his snowmobile for a chat and was given two hot dogs for his efforts. 

Lionel broke the third hot dog in half and held each in his hands until they were cool enough.  He called Peli over first and asked her to sit.  She sat, and then very genteelly put her paw on his leg.  He gave her one half of the hot dog.  While she ate it, he called Sako over.  Sako was well-aware of what was happening and had preemptively sat on his own volition nearby, and so he scooted forward until he was in range of Lionel’s hand and hoovered his half of the hot dog down.  For her part, Peli put her paw back up on Lionel’s leg in case there was another half of a hot dog floating around somewhere. 

And with that, we were done.
I’m quite happy to say
That everyone got filled up with happiness that day. 
That day we enjoyed our frankfurter toast,
Which was one part a picnic and one part a roast,
Thanks to Jenn’s good ideas – she’s really a smartie –
We all had the pleasure of a nice winter party.

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It’s New Year’s Eve! Happy New Year! I took a photo of myself on my walk, and that photo is above.

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I’m not back on North Dakota Today until after the New Year.  Last week on North Dakota Today we talked about Jessica Salinas and Love in Action, my Nice Person of the Week, as well Marty the Elf and his partner, Deputy Steve Austin, my Nice Elf of the Week. (Valley News Live)

For the millionth year, the community of Minot baked cookies for the airmen at the Minot Air Force Base. (MSN)

Step 1: Concerned citizens call about children sledding into traffic.  Step 2: Policeman finds kids sledding on cardboard.  Step 3: Moorhead Police’s “Elves” gift children new sleds.  Step 4: Everyone collectively says “awww.” (Valley News Live)

Santa on Darwin was as active as ever this year. (Fargo Forum)

Jagger Lindsey has a whole bunch of hockey players rallying behind him. (KFYR)

How do you spell C-U-T-E?  W-A-X. (Wahpeton Daily News)

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