Springtime in Minnesota

    Photo this morning, from the side door of our house,

    looking out toward our garage and guest quarters.

This is my Minnesota and the snow falls here this morning, three weeks into Spring, as if it will never cease; and, by God (I really mean it), it’s absolutely beautiful.
by Charlie Leck

Yes, it is April 11 in this year of 2013; however, this is Minnesota, the Land of Infinite Variety – the Northstar State.  It is, indeed, Spring. For calendar purposes, the season began more than three weeks ago. However, as I write this morning, I can look over at the big glass doors that lead out onto the east deck from my library; and I can see the snow piling up on the table and chairs out there and, out further, on the limbs and branches of the trees.

We’ll set some kind of record here in Minnesota for a late snow fall – at least for one of this size. The weather forecasters are talking about 8 inches of snow. More than 150 flights have been canceled at MSP International Airport. Roads have been closed in some parts of the state. Rush hour traffic in the metropolitan Twin Cities is impossible and there are plenty of angry drivers.

My wife’s sheep don’t want to leave the protection of their barns. She wants them to go outside so she can clean the floors and put down fresh bedding. They look at her as if she is insane. Their bleating is telling her (complaining) that it is supposed to be Spring.

Oh, yes, the forecasters are calling for more snow tomorrow.

The public golf course up the road from our house opened this past week. A photograph of the sign up there, announcing that “the golf course is open,” would make quite a sight. I’ll have to try to get up there somehow to take the shot. I took the photograph above this morning, at about 8 o’clock, from the side door of our house, looking out at our garage and guest house.

Today, the Masters Golf Championship opens at the beautiful Augusta Golf Club in Georgia. The azaleas are in full bloom and full color. Here, inside, protected from the snow and the cold outdoors, I’ll sit back to watch the wonderful golf played over this extraordinary golf course. [That is, of course, if my dish can pick up a signal through the thick, heavy, falling snow.]

There is now the feint sound of rolling thunder in the distance.

A radio talking-head has just asked a startling question.

“Why the hell do we live here?” He pauses, dramatically. “I mean it! If we’re capable of getting jobs elsewhere, why do we live here? We must be crazy.”

When I first set foot in Minnesota in 1962, I knew I’d never live anywhere else ever again. I fell in love with everything about this state. Why do I live here? Because of beautiful, breath-taking mornings like this one. Frankly, as I look out, I’m not sure I have ever seen anything more beautiful. This is my Minnesota and I love it.

I’ll post a few more photos for you as the day goes on.

This is the deck on the east side of my tree-top library.
The furniture looks misplaced right now. Normall, at
this time of year I might be getting to sit out there
during the day, reading, sipping on coffee and listening
to the birds in the surrounding trees (which would
actually be budding and getting ready to leaf-out).

This is my Big Green Egg, which I moved last week -- because Spring had arrived -- out to my grilling deck.

Looking down the hill to the west of our house where Pioneer Creek meanders through our property on its way to Ox Yoke Lake. Just yesterday the hillside was bare of snow and showing signs of greening up.

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Snownomi

We've a little screened dining porch off our kitchen. Here's the way it looked this morning before daylight.

The weather forecasters up here like to be dramatic and they are often throwing out gruesome scares about tornadoes, flooding rains, fierce winds and mega snowstorms that never happen. Like Chicken Little, we don't pay much attention to them anymore!
by Charlie Leck

The weatherman started warning us sometime yesterday that a big one -- maybe resembling the blizzard of 1888 or the giant snow of Halloween in 1991 -- was on it's way. A few of my friends like to make fun of the forecasters (doomsdayers, they call them); yet, once in awhile they've got to get it right. They nailed this one.

I awakened long before daylight broke here and peered out the windows and had to open a door for the dog, who was desperate to get outside. The winds howled and blew cold snow inside and against my face and bathrobe. To the left you can see how the Christmas decorations on our front stoop looked when I pried open the door.

The dog was howling to get back in within 30 seconds.

I can hear, in my mind, readers in South Carolina, Georgia, Florida and other southern states, wondering what the hell I'm still doing in Minnesota at my age and stage in life. Only sometimes I wonder that, too. This is one of those mornings.

There's hours and hours of work to do to clear the sidewalks and the long driveway out to the road and then the roads and trails around the farm. It's back-breaking work and exasperating with the way the winds are right now. Clear the snow away and then watch the wind blow it back in.

It's 19 degrees out there right now and the forecast is for a low of 7 degrees below zero tonight.

As I write this little and terribly unimportant blog, this is the way it looks on the deck outside my treetop study. The wind is really picking up. Anne is outside, trying to get the chains on one of the big tractors so she can start blowing snow off the roads. I'm useless to her right now. A week or so ago, my right hip just sort of gave up. I had the left one replaced approximately 6 years ago. I knew that the right one was going, but I didn't expect it to turn from minor to major so very quickly. One thing I can't image doing this morning is shoveling and plowing snow. I can barely sit down here at my desk without the pain savaging me. I moving toward the replacement surgery in January. I can't wait.

I've been on the phone, trying to get one of our workman over here to help out. He didn't sound enthused but said he's on his way. On his part, it's an act of employment preservation. He's got to do the work that I would normally do. I'll give him a bonus and make a smile come to his face.

A good friend is flying in this morning from Brazil. He's in the air right now. I wonder if the plane will be able to land or if it will need to divert. Welcome home to Minnesota! We're to have dinner with him tomorrow night. It's been set up I'm sure, so he can show off his tanned and darkened complexion.

In the meantime, I'll just think in envy of my brother down there in Florida and many of my golfing friends who've moved into their winter quarters in Florida, Arizona and Southern California. I've resisted such a winter residence because it seemed to me that the adventure of a Minnesota winter was not to be missed. This morning I'm beginning to wonder if I might not be crazy. A round of golf in Florida this morning sounds like a mighty fine way to spend a winter day.

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Why not become a follower?
If you read my blog regularly, why not become a follower? All you have to do is click in the upper right hand corner and establish a simple means of communication. Then you'll be informed every time a new blog is posted here. If all that's confusing, here's Google's explanation of how to do it!