Yankee Winter Excursion

I was invited to attend a two-day business conference and training in Minnesota. The only catch was that it would be in January. When I read that tidbit the Northeastern quadrant of my frontal lobe twitched. Minnesota? January?!

Suddenly, my southerninity knew I was in for a deep chill.

I’ve seen snow maybe four times in my life and I don’t even own a coat. I have a jacket that can protect me from a five mph wind in a rainstorm but below zero wind chills and ice and a real winter? Not even close. As a result of my pathetic winter wear condition a gracious friend volunteered to lend me his sub-zero parka. Besides the fact that it fit me, him being from Minnesota certainly synched the deal.

You have to realize that I’ve been made to fear the cold by my Yankee friends who love to tease me about living in a tropical world. While they drool over my sixty-five degree-ness as they skip to work in five degrees I have been taunted by visions of frozen mucus membranes, nasal hairs cracking like peppermint canes and lungs filled with brittle bronchi as I gasp for my final breath. The thought of becoming a chubby Cajun frozen speed bump in an industrial parkway haunts my solstice dreams.

Well, I made it home alive. It was ten degrees when I arrived with single digit and below zero wind chills but my nightmares never came to fruition partly because we mostly shuffled between buildings, rarely heading into the winter evening unguarded. I did, however, manage to discover hidden ice as I slid across and down grass and walkways in fine penguin style. Next time I shall bring my cane. Though I enjoyed the newness of winter, the true northern winter, it was good to be home.

Warm. Foggy. Humid. Yes, home.