Yesterday, after another sweaty few hours pulling weeds, I asked Tara, “What do we do on winter weekends?” I had legitimately forgotten how we fill our time when there isn’t yard work to be done.
“Sit around on our asses a lot,” she said.
My god, does that really happen?! If so, it sounds wonderful.
Curious, I skimmed through my blog posts from last December–February. My wife is partly correct: there is definitely more sitting around on our asses during the winter—but we get out and do things, too. We strolled around our town’s holiday market, hung out at Chili’s, visited our local museum, hit up a gardening expo in Madison, bought a car, took a day trip to Appleton. And that was just ONE Saturday! God, that was a long day.
(Kidding, of course.)
There were still chores that needed doing, but these involved breaking holes in the ice over the koi pond and putting up/taking down holiday decorations and beating rugs in the snow. There was nary a weed to be pulled, and I didn’t get a single mosquito bite the entire time. That all feels so foreign this time of year, like a beautiful alternate reality.
And unlike last week, when we were plagued by wildfire smoke, you could actually see the river and breathe the air.
Oh, how I miss winter. Which leads me to a (probably) unpopular opinion, but I’m just gonna lay it out for you anyway: summer is overrated.
Sure, it’s got its perks. County fairs and farmers markets and concerts in the park. Festivals galore. Soft serve ice cream from Frostie Freeze, sweet corn from our favorite farm stand in Cambridge. I can eat cherries to my heart’s content. Lightning bugs at dusk, zero threat of getting frostbite when retrieving the mail. Brewers games at American Family Field. But does the good really outweigh the bad? Especially on days like today, when there’s a chance we may end up hunkering down in the basement later?
And yet, we desperately need the rain. Damned if these storms roll through, damned if they don’t.
Maybe if I had a dog that needed walking or owned a water park or a frozen custard stand or was a teacher, I might love summer. But I don’t, don’t, don’t, and am not, so I stand by my position.
I will grant you this morning’s sunrise was pretty nice, in a The-Mothership-is-Landing kinda way…
At one point I was walking through the woods and came upon a flock of wild turkeys, including some adorable fluffy-feathered chicks, right next to an inquisitive deer staring at me with eyes as big as saucers. Earlier, a raccoon had bounded down the trail in front of me. “It’s official,” I said out loud. “My life is a Disney movie.” Which startled the animals, causing them to either fly away or bolt into the forest. But what a moment!
Just to be clear, it was the turkeys who flew and the deer that bolted, not the other way around. In case you were confused.
Another sorta-nice thing I’ll concede about summer? We tend to get more houseguests (though this depends on your tolerance for houseguests). Strange how none of our friends or family want to visit Wisconsin in the dead of winter! Quite frankly, I could use an extra pair of hands to break up that ice on the pond, but it is what it is.
Case in point: my daughter and her wife are flying out for a visit this week, taking the red eye from Portland to Milwaukee, arriving Thursday morning. This will be their first time in Wisconsin, and they seem to be a little bit leery.
“Umm, we looked up your house on Google Maps,” Audrey told us during a phone call on Saturday. “It doesn’t look like there’s very much around you.”
“There isn’t!” we replied joyfully. “That’s the whole point. It’s fantastic!”
This was met by a protracted silence from my youngest offspring.
Hey, I get it. Twenty-somethings don’t find cornfields and dairy farms sexy. We have assured them that Wisconsin is a hidden gem and there are plenty of things to see and do that don’t involve cows or crops, but they’re skeptical. Tara and I are both off Thursday and Friday and we have a bunch of fun activities planned. I truly believe they’ll be pleasantly surprised by Wisconsin.
If the cheese alone doesn’t win them over, all hope for the next generation is lost.
Mark My Words 
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