Why

Raised eyebrows and pursed lips of concern tended to follow our announcement to folks regarding our New Year's plans this year.  Minnesota? people would exclaim, then follow up with the question, "Why?"

​We had visited the McDonnells in Roseau three winters before and looked forward to reuniting with our lifelong friends. We love them, the ambience of their home, and their cozy Shedeau. We were eager to tromp around their 47 acres on snowshoes. Let's face it, those who know know. It's fun to possess best-kept secrets. Although I'd successfully shrugged off others' cynicism, the night before we left, I read a weather report and started to panic.

​A flurry of texts from Chairman Joe calmed my fears about the freezing rain in Minnesota. The NYT called it a blizzard; multiple flights were cancelled. Minnesota is a big state, Joe said, tempering my panic. We'll keep an eye on it.

​I found two pennies in separate places at the DC airport the next day. For me, that's always an auspicious sign. In God we trust. If it be your will, let it be so that we get there, I prayed. And we did: after many hours of flying, we arrived in Fargo. From Joe's heroic drive to pick us up at the airport, our time there was packed full of precious people, rich discussions, great food, and warmth.

​We ate great food all week. Crepes, fresh off the pan with all kinds of savory and sweet fixings, fueled our first morning. During breakfast, a huge, golden pan of focaccia stretched out on the counter, already hinting at the lunch to come. Joe also had made sandwich bread and later indulged us with homemade pasta and his legendary pizza. Between meals, we gobbled Teresa's caramel-laden chocolate dessert bars before and after her pumpkin scones. In between all this deliciousness, we ate chocolate, cranberry bread, and Congo bars. We washed this all down with tea and wine, savoring every drop and morsel. No wonder I came home and started a fast right away.

​If all we did was sit around, feed the fire, knit, and talk, we would have been happy. Family, religion, politics, there are many reasons why we have been friends for so very long; it seems we never run out of topics to discuss. Yet, in my first-ever post, after our 2023 visit, I remarked on the joy the McDonnells take in gathering with their friends. This trip included several such occasions. 

I was more than eager to celebrate the Almanac's founding event on New Year's Eve with fellow writers. After nearly three years of reading and contributing to the Almanac, what initially felt like luck in meeting them has become a deep appreciation for them as unique individuals. The party was a blast; meeting the young writer Antonin was a special treat. Equally wonderful was the visit to Beltrami Forest with C and J for a rich discussion at the site of so much creativity. We also loved the pow-wow one afternoon in the warmth of the Shedeau with CJ and WW, where we together reveled in the richness of the writing life. Hanging out with Becky and Jack at The Bead Gypsy was delicious and tons of fun, as was our amazing dinner discussion with the Imbiblers. I don't take these people and these rich encounters lightly. Each leaves a mark and matters.

​Last night, feeling lonesome for the people and the experience, I decided to watch Fargo again. Very soon into the very dark, crime thriller, I realized that only the footage of the long, flat Midwest highways would serve as a reminder of our great time there. A little further into the film, the camera zooms in on Marge Gunderson's plate as she piles it high with yummy foods at a Smorgasbord. Such an apt image for the variety of experiences and the gracious generosity of our visit.

​The unmistakable coziness in the movie's final scene echoes the goodness of our time in Minnesota. After responding to such horrors, safe at home with Norm, Marge turns to him and says, "We are doin' pretty good."  Against the brutality of our world, it's the people in our lives who ground us, keep us company, and help us remember who we are. The journey to Roseau is more than worth it. All of the above and more is why we are so grateful and why we go to Minnesota. 

Here are the limerick tributes I delivered on New Year's Eve:

There once was a Savage named Cath

Who traces the samurai path

Through the years, she does toil

This student so loyal 

To assure great Nobility lasts

There once was a writer of ditties

Whose blog posts are always quite witty

But John asked for some dirt

Saying, how could it hurt

To give us a glimpse of some **tties

There's a fellow who wends his own way

Posts appear for us on each Wednesday

There’s much that he knows 

This good fellow called Woe

Who's as bright as the brightest of rays

Then there's one Palmville writer named  Steve

Who makes post-writing seem like a breeze

He makes art with his hands

And he curates his land

With plantings of wonderful trees

Kim, our writer, on each Saturday,

Gives her wakwirs a space for their say.

With her fresh, open heart,

Love of writing imparts

With her rich, busy life on display

And to Jim, my dear partner in crime

Who checks my first drafts all the time

He gives me advice 

Then he says Very Nice

He's indeed a 1st reader sublime

Dear Teresa's a friend who is keen

Crafting homes with a true vintage sheen

She knits sweaters so warm

As she works up a storm

And she's also a true glamor queen

There once was a writer named Joe

Obliged to a line he should toe

In the morning, he's scrolling

For pests that are trolling

With content that's inappropos

Chairman Joe is our great exemplar

Who leads writers to reach for the stars

As a host, he's the finest

His parties divinest

As a friend, he's the bestest by far!