Yes, I am still working on writing about the rest of my summer. Yes, I am about 4 months behind. I only have one excuse: The next post has to be about the traditional Ojibwe fast that I went on, because that’s how I started my summer. But in order to write about that, I have to write about the first one I did, which was two years prior; and in order to write about that, I’ve found I kind of have to write about my entire childhood. So it’s a post I’ve been trying to get to for 2½ years, and it’s a big project.
From some of the replies I’ve gotten to my last post, I realize I didn’t actually make it clear where I’m living now. I’m living in a little country house about halfway between Ashland and Washburn, Wisconsin.
Here in Minnesota, a long, punishing Winter has been followed by a lovely Spring, which has been followed by a spirited Second Winter. The morning of the 11th, before I started writing this, snow fell with a brown tinge from dust that blew in from Texas. (Meteorologists call this “snirt”.) Later that day while unlocking my bike to travel down slushy roads that two days prior were clear and surrounded by green lawn, I saw a flash, looked up into the pelting hail, and heard thunder.
If you think you’ve seen icicles, you’re probably wrong unless you’ve been to Minnesota.