Why Here? Why There?

The DJ slides in between Carrie Underwood and Jared and the Long Road to Love to let us know that the high today is going to be a balmy zero degrees with mostly sunny skies. Of course it is. It's Minneapolis in January. Our cars are all coated in a thick layer of salt, indistinguishable white/gray sedans next to indistinguishable white/gray SUVs. With every gas tank refill we put in another bottle of windshield washer fluid. Long underwear no longer hides in the back of the closet, but is a staple of every day wear. Every other morning a fresh layer of snow falls upon our huge snowdrifts and the bright sun reflecting off the white, white snow blinds us as we frantically try to clear the snow off our cars, porches, and sidewalks. Those new sunglasses better be polarized or you'll spend the whole day squinting. Once you do put on your sunglasses, you'll be annoyed because the earpieces will painfully dig behind your ears as soon as you put on your fleece-lined hat.

But there are so many things I'd never done until I moved here.

I'd never ice skated outside.
I'd never snowmobiled to the middle of a lake and hopped off the snowmobile to walk around.
I'd never gotten my car stuck over and over again attempting to drive around the block.
I'd never had perfect strangers help me unstick my car over and over again.
I'd never pushed a stranger's car out of the snow over and over again.
I'd never walked around a lake lit by luminaries in the middle of the winter.
I'd never driven a snow covered road without a knot in my stomach and terror in my heart.
I'd never made snow angels in the front yard with the man I love.
I'd never stored food on the front porch because it was just as good as being in the freezer.

People ask me all the time why I still live here. Sometimes I ask myself that, too, especially in January and February. But the truth is I live here because I love it here.