Posted by: Calmseas (Mike) | February 22, 2013

Never Enough Pickles To Go Around

Trust me. It’s a wasteland out there this morning.  No redeeming quality that I can see.  Not fit for man, beast, mouse, dog, or aardvark—let alone the groundhog, who is in the middle of his six more weeks at this point.  I must truly be insane for living in Michigan in the winter.

It doesn’t have to be this way, of course.  I could pull up stakes, head south.  But if I did, I’d be back for the summer.  I don’t know which is worse: the winter wasteland of Michigan, or the summer heat and humidity of Florida or the gulf coast.

Lake Michigan 5I used to be tougher than this.  As a school kid, I walked to school three miles in a blizzard (one way), without shoes, with gloves with holes in them, carrying only a half of a ground bologna sandwich for lunch (always light on ground-up pickles), and nothing but well water to wash it down when it came time for lunch (if the well didn’t freeze up).  That’s my story.  Or maybe that’s my dad’s story.  I think it is everyone’s dad’s story, actually.

Let’s face it: there is no good place to live year around.  Maybe that’s why God created mobility, and transportation to facilitate it.  Now if I can just find those car keys.


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