Northward bound
I am incredibly excited for my upcoming Thanksgiving trip to Minnesota. Tonight I began filling my suitcase even though I don’t fly out until Wednesday, which means my level of anticipation has somehow overcome my intense hatred for packing.
Two of my coworkers took trips to the Midwest within the past few weeks, and they made me jealous with tales from Illinois, Wisconsin, Minnesota and South Dakota. It’s always hilarious to hear a Southerner recount experiences from up north. My coworker Travis attempted to test the authenticity of my Minnesotan farm girl-ness by texting me a photo of a calf from Wisconsin and asking, “What kind of cow is this?”
It was a Dutch Belted. He really should have chosen a more difficult breed.
Travis also did some philosophizing while he sat in his hotel room trying to escape the temperatures that seemed frigid to a South Carolinian but undoubtedly mild to everyone else in Wisconsin, I’m sure. He said:
The people of the Midwest are too d@mn nice. I think it’s the cold. I think their preservation instinct compels them to work as a unit because they know that’s the only way they’ll make it.
I don’t care what causes the “Minnesota nice,” but I feel long overdue for a giant dose of it. Also, I just might freeze my buns off this week.
