I held out as long as I could, but I just can’t do it anymore.
After writing ad nauseam about the weather for several weeks, as I spun my yarns of winter adventure, I decided to give it a rest for a while.
I could have written about watching how quickly the snow had been melting, but I did not want to jinx it. Although there were some winter remnants left before Wednesday, especially in groves across the region, the majority of all that fell in February and March had all but disappeared showing up again in liquid form creating a whole new stream of dialogue.
I even saw a worm on the steps at church Sunday morning (April 7) after the rain, which, for all intents and purposes, indicates the frost has gone and the farmers could be planting soon.
Of course, that is now all for naught, as there is snow again across Redwood County’s landscape which means my wish for a quiet, uneventful spring is not happening.
Based on the calendar, we are already more than two weeks into spring, but by the weather threats you would have thought it was still a month before we all even started wondering whether or not Punxsutawney Phil would see his shadow.
When it’s February and there are blizzard warnings, we Minnesotans complain with a shrug of our shoulders accepting that this is always a possibility no matter how many times it happened during the previous weeks.
When April showers do not bring May flowers but actually freeze the greening that had been appearing, we no longer just shrug it off.
The look on the faces of people who are talking about the snow has been sullen, melancholy and downright sad.
I have been waiting to write more about the winter that was in 2018 and 2019, but it keeps on keeping on as the winter that is. So the photos I have taken and the data I have collected will just have to wait a little while longer.
I just hope that isn’t in July.
My wish is for winter to be over, and I know some day my wish will come. My fear is that there will be too little time between when this one ends and the next one begins.
Of course, I have been exercising my own silent protests, as all of my long-sleeve clothing has been put away and will not come out until December at the earliest.
My best half had even started washing the winter wear and bemoaned the fact that the snowpants that just came out of the dryer will be in use again for a few days.
My guess is that those hats, coats, mittens and scarves will be washed again soon and may find themselves drying outside on the line.
There is a bit of wishful thinking for you.
So, I stopped by the hunger banquet Lydia Rigge and other members of the Redwood Valley FFA Chapter hosted April 7. Other commitments prevented me from staying for the whole program, but I did hear plenty that made me really think.
One of the statistics is to be considered upper income on a global scale means earning an annual salary of just under $9,000. So, what does that say about us here in America where people who meet the poverty guidelines in much of the world would be above average financially?
I have never been one to lay guilt trips on people, but I really think we as a nation should feel more than a little ashamed when we complain about what we don’t have, especially in comparison to the true have-nots. I hope this is a statistic that sticks with you as it has stuck with me, and that all of us don’t just shake our head for a while and then move on to complaining about how unfair life is.
There are opportunities for all of us to get involved with helping to feed the world. Even though ending world hunger may be a lofty goal, what we can each do is our part and make it better for at least one more person.