Hello and welcome to yet another snowy Saturday here at the Wannaskan Almanac. Today is February 12th.
Good grief! It snowed this past week, eh? I mean, I love snow, but even I have my limits. All the ice and cold is quite frankly making me feel frosty about winter. (And normally, I love winter.)
Speaking of frosty, last night the high school in my Wannaskan hamlet on Lake of the Woods hosted its annual Frosty winter dance.
I've got two teenage sons who both have girlfriends, so I was surprised when the older of the two announced he was forgoing the festivities. (The other one is going, so par for the course on that one.) Experience has taught me that these fancy dances are all about the dress, so I couldn't understand why his sweetheart wasn't pouncing on the opportunity to flounce in some sophisticated frills. Then he shared photos of super fancy dresses she's looking at and figured it out: She's saving all of that gown glory for prom.
But for the other dance attendees who dared venture out on a black-icy night, I have to wonder why a girl would step out into subzero temperatures in strappy high heels and a strapless frock with a split up the thigh for a dance? Here are my guesses:
1.) Winter is so bleak people need something to look forward to.
2.) It stems from a tradition that started with Sadie Hawkins and winter was the only spot available on the dance card.
3.) It's the American version of a Czech cultural tradition called "Ball Season" which happens before Lent, similar to the party-party mentality of Mardi Gras before Catholics batten down the hatches and get serious during the season leading up to Jesus's demise.
While the teens braved the elements, our elementary-aged kids snuggled into warm blankets with cups of hot ginger-lemon tea sweetened with a generous dollop of honey from the local Wilmer Honey Farm to enjoy an evening with their parents on the couch.
The First Grader brought home a book about walking sticks. This is something I love about still having children in elementary school – these short nonfiction books about topics I would otherwise pay no attention to. These were my teens' favorite books when they were down in the elementary wing of our school. Over the years, I’ve learned about ants, cockroaches, tarantulas, toads, lizards, the cosmos, and, now, walking sticks.
First fun fact: Walkingsticks is spelled with one word, not two. This was news to me, and apparently, to spell check, which underlines every instance with a red scribble line. (Note: You may want to update your dictionary if you find yourself in the position of writing about walkingsticks.)
Walkingsticks are insects. Insects' distinctive trait is that they have three main body parts: the head, torso (thorax?), and, um, the bottom half. (Hey, I’m doing this from memory. I’m impressed even if you’re not.)
Okay, Google says head, thorax, and abdomen.
"What's a thorax?" I asked the First Grader.
“The thorax is the middle part of the insect,” he answers while playing Minecraft on my phone, answering as fluidly as if I had asked him, "What's your name?"
Insects have antennas. Of course, I get hung up on the plural form of antenna, because I have always thought there was only one correct spelling: antennae.
According to the book, most walkingsticks live in warm and wet parts of the world. Which makes me wonder: Have I ever seen a walkingstick before? I think so? No, I’m sure I have. I spend most of my time in the northern half of the Northern Hemisphere where it is warm and wet only three months of the year.
“Google, do walkingsticks exist in Minnesota?” (Why not, Alexa? Because Alexa doesn’t live here.)
“Northern walkingstick is common in the eastern half of the United States and adjacent Canadian provinces. It is the only stick insect found in Canada. It is the most common walkingstick in North America and in Minnesota.” (Source)
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Kim
Don’t forget the other kind of walkingstick when you leave the cabin in high heels or not. The kind you can defend yourself with from bobcats and mad dogs. Also, mountain lions are not unheard of in Wannaska.
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