The Minnesota Farm Woman

I didn’t exactly wish for it, you know. Our lack of snow, I mean. I didn’t fervently wish like I do to be skinnier/richer/younger/smarter or anything in between those things. If one lives in northern Minnesota, there is supposed to be snow, and lots of it. We know it is coming. We wait for it. Some of us even look forward to it. HE and I have lived here in the frozen tundra about eight years now, and even we expect it. Since I was too lazy to do any research this week, I’ll just tell you that the average snowfall in Minnesota last year was approximately a gazillion inches. Since our vintage snow blower breaks down at least once every winter, enough was enough. We decided to buy an all-terrain vehicle. It was not purchased for fun, but for work, and around here, there’s plenty of that. Hauling things around the farm, snow removal, and (ok, I’ll admit it) a little recreational trail riding. That involved purchasing a trailer to take it places, plus a snow plow to attach to the front. All of these things involve $$$ and more $$$, but I’m not complaining, because HE paid for it. He is the one who does all the snow removal around here, too. All I have to do is sweep a bit of that white stuff from the deck, pour a cup of hot coffee, then write about the adventure of it all and the rest of my very exciting life. Last year, the year before that, and the year before that, the first of the gazillion inches came in November. This past November, the ATV was parked in the garage and ready to go. I think he even washed and buffed her with a chamois cloth. There she sits in all her shiny plow-endowed glory, waiting for the snow to fall. Here it is the end of the year, and we’re still waiting. Oh, we’ve had a few inches of it here and there, which the unusually balmy December breezes melted into puddles and slush, which have now frozen into a bumpy slippery mess. Mother Nature has a great sense of humor. If we had decided to patch together the old snow blower for one more year, she would have probably sent us a gazillion and two inches of snow. If we were to breathe a sigh of relief and think we’re in for a mild, snowless winter, she’ll send a blizzard in late April or even May. For those of you who don’t live in Minnesota, don’t think that hasn’t happened many times before. I hate to admit it, but I am actually looking forward it. Not in April or May of course, but a good heavy January snow would be wonderful. Happy New Year! May Mother Nature be kind to us all.

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Joseph is missing. I am speaking of my friend’s Joseph, whom she wrapped carefully last year after Christmas and nestled him gently with the rest of her nativity set, put away safely for another for another year. She went through each piece of wrapping paper again, but to no avail. Joseph has left the stable. Even though most of the attention has always been on Mary and the baby Jesus, Joseph is an important part of the Christmas story. Important, but kind of in the background, as dads tend to be. I think they like it that way. Joseph wandered around the city of Bethlehem looking for a place to stay, and could only find a stable. I wonder if Mary was urging him to stop and ask for directions? Being in labor, I’m pretty certain she at least urged him to speed up the donkey just a little bit. This time of year, more modern Josephs wander around the Christmas crowds with a deer-in-the-headlights kind of look. Funny, but when they reach for their wallets to pay, they get the same kind of look in their eyes. They rearrange the furniture to make enough room for the biggest, tallest, most beautiful tree they have ever hauled home. They rearrange it again, just to suit HER, because it is a well-known fact that it will be a merrier Christmas for everyone if they do. They haul the boxes of ornaments and decorations up from basements and down from attics. The original Joseph, being a carpenter, probably made toys for the young Jesus to play with. More modern Joesphs put together toys until three in the morning on Christmas Eve, only to be awakened at five by a houseful of excited young voices on Christmas morning. They are awakened again from their after dinner football naps, perhaps by an exuberant toddler taking a flying leap and landing on their belly. Although my own Joseph isn’t usually the holly jolly mistletoe type of Christmas guy, he drove all over town to buy the perfect gift for a very special little boy and always has a big part in making Christmas dinner. My friend tried to insert a few stand-ins to take Joseph’s place in her nativity set, but even the small ceramic Santa of the same size didn’t do the trick. Besides, with all that red and white, Santa didn’t match. Update: Thank goodness for eBay, as my friend was able to find a matching Joseph replacement. Christmas just wouldn’t have been the same without him.

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