There’s a change in the weather

Derrick Knutson

On the morning of Thanksgiving, my wife and I saw a woman out running in shorts and a T-shirt.

In the next hour or so, we spotted a bevy of pavement-traversing enthusiasts enjoying the balmy weather.

Thinking this might be a record breaker of a day in terms of warmth, I grabbed only a thin coat before hopping in the car with my wife and driving to my in-laws for Thanksgiving dinner around 1 p.m.

When my wife and I left their house about three hours later to head to my parents’ house for another round of holiday gluttony, the temperature had dropped by a good 30 degrees and it was starting to rain/sleet/snow.

One would think that living in Minnesota all of my life, I might be attuned to the fact that the weather can go from quite pleasant to “step outside for more than 10 minutes and you shall die from cold” extremely rapidly, but for some reason or another, I guess that hadn’t set in as of last week.

I hope it does soon; otherwise my lifespan could be quite short.

Someone might find me someday frozen solid along the side of a road, wearing shorts and a cutoff shirt – the outfit I had chosen earlier in the day because it was “nice out” when I had left for a mid-morning fall jog.

Upon leaving my parents’ house at about 7:30 p.m. Thanksgiving night, Mother Nature had squashed the last remnants of fall and introduced us to her other, much-less-pleasant progeny: winter.

It’s technically still fall as I write this, but when snow and ice removal aids need to be put into action, that’s the start of winter for me.

Before getting into the car to drive home, I had to grab the snow brush/ice scraper and use it to remove the caked on ice and snow stuck to the car.

While performing this task, I thought to myself, “Boy, it would be nice to have a thicker coat, hat and some gloves.”

Instead, I braved (well, it wasn’t really bravery so much as stupidity) the elements and brushed off the car, all the while being pelted by snow and ice.

On the way home, the roads were very slippery and the wind was actually pushing the car.

But I was driving about three miles an hour on Highway 65, so I was able to stay on the road, unlike some other motorists.

I knew if the car were to head into the ditch and we had to exit the vehicle, I’d be a human popsicle before long in my paper-thin coat.

Thankfully, we got home without skidding off the highway.

I learned a valuable lesson that day: Minnesota weather is terrible. Bring an extra six layers of clothing wherever you go, even if it’s July.

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