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KA~
My first winter as a Wisconsin homeowner was a particularly brutal one. They’re always cold, and the world turns a maddening monochromatic white, but this pushed even my limits. El Nino, La Nina. Whatever. We had a blizzard, and I had a shovel. It was like bringing a knife to a gunfight. That night, I learned that the wind hit our block perfectly, and not only did I get my own snow to clean up, but I also got everyone else’s.
I also learned what ‘cutting out’ a driveway meant when a neighbor I hadn't been formally introduced to showed up and started snow-blowing my driveway. When he was done —and let’s be honest, he did about 90% of the work— he shook my hand, told me his name, and pointed over his shoulder to his house just down the block.
When I asked him what I owed him, I might as well have been chattering in Latin. Silly me. My ‘bill' was to accept a vague invite to stop by for a beer sometime. It was obviously a nice thing to do, and it was quintessentially Midwest. It’s just what people do in flyover states.
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A few days ago I tweeted this:
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