matt weighs in

Many of you won’t agree with this (hi Laura) and will think I am crazy for saying it, but I really enjoy the extreme weather we get in Minnesota. Whether it is the hot, sticky, can’t-keep-your-forehead-dry heat and humidity of July and August or the how-are-we-going-to-keep-the-kids’-nose-from-freezing-off cold we experience December through March, I find dealing with the elements a fun part of living here.

I just do. Sure, I might walk out to the car at 6:45am tomorrow and find that it will not start, because the temperature dropped to -7 degrees overnight, but I can live with that. There’s something about the initial burst of cold air hitting me square in the nose, making my eyes water that I find refreshing, can shrug off with a deep breath, and continue to the car to warm up and scrape off the windows. Of course, I start coughing when the cold, cold deep breath hits my throat and lungs, but at least it helps to wake me up that early.

Perhaps I have resigned myself to the fact that I just have to deal with the cold car in the morning, since our one-car garage doesn’t currently have enough room in it to fit one car (and hasn’t for the past two winters). But even if I could fit the car in the garage, it would probably be Laura’s car anyway, so she can quickly get out of the house with the kids without having to spend four-to-five minutes removing the 1/16th inch of frost/ice that accumulated overnight. When the sun does come out, though, I like that I can look out the window and think that it isn’t really that bad outside, the sun is shining. How cold can it be when we have the sun shining down on us in Minnesota?

The answer, of course, is that it can be pretty dang cold when the calendar shows Thanksgiving and Christmas on the calendar.

One of my favorite reasons for liking the extreme cold so much, though, is bourbon. I don’t drink it much, but there is something about coming in from outside, realizing that my fingers and toes are not going to warm up on their own, opening the cupboard where the bottle of bourbon has been sitting since last winter, and pouring myself a small glass over ice.

Within minutes of taking a couple sips, my extremities begin to tingle with a little warmth, and I settle in for the night. For those wondering, my bourbon of choice at the moment is Buffalo Trace, out of Franklin County, KY.

I’m sure it is not the highest rated Kentucky straight bourbon whiskey on the market, but right now, it is the best (and only) I have in the house. It helps me forget that the thermometer says 0 degrees.

At least until tomorrow morning.