The High Cost of Living in Minnesota

When I moved here from Boston I was dazzled by the beauty of early October, and decided that any place this majestic was worth the effort to make myself comfortable during the winter months I knew would follow.

Winter, however, fell into a new catagory, based on my naive experience with Boston and the New York City area. This was not simply 'cold', it was an entirely new dimension in cold. Snow fell not in inches, but by feet. Frostbite was not a remote possibility, it was at times a daily threat. The winds that waft over us with such promise in the fall turn to a new and frightening intensity in the winter, blowing snow up into the air, blinding our view and making travel treacherous. It gradually occurred to me that I was taking my life in my hands to travel across the cities during a snowstorm. The heavy traffic that seemed to accompany such efforts only made things worse.

What have I gotten myself into? I began to wonder.

Now I am experienced at living here. I can counteract my distress at the howling winds with the sight of one of the beautiful city lakes in front of the rising sun. I can hope that when the skies clear we will be treated to an ethereal vision of Northern Lights. I can travel with determination through pelting snow to get to a location where I can be one of the first to ski on the new snow.

But the reality remains -- first, there are two winters in Minnesota -- the arctic winter, with its bitter wind chills, and the East Coast winter that follows. Together, they take up about six months of the year. In order to live comfortably in Minnesota year-round, and to accommodate the intemperate season, it is necessary to have two different wardrobes -- one full of fleece and fake fur, woolens, long underwear, fuzzy warm boots and gloves, the other for the more temperate time. Next, we need two different vehicles -- something with four-wheel or all-wheel drive for the winter, when we need every advantage possible on the tricky and frequently unplowed roads, and a convertible (or vehicle with better mileage and a sunroof) for the summer.
We need work that we can do at home during the winter, or at least the bad weather, and work in the summer that takes us out into the glorious sunshine and warmth.

That leads us to the last necessity -- a means of getting out. We need to save for vacations to places of warmth in the winter, at the very least. If we don't mind the ticks and bugs and muddy lake bottoms, we also might need a cabin up north to escape to during the summer. And ultimately, unless we have fabulous health and tenacity, we need another home; one where there is plenty of warmth and sun, and, if we are very lucky, big water. Perhaps someday we will escape there and only return to Minnesota for the spectacular summer months. Who knows?

So the best advice when you are living here is to have an escape strategy, and perhaps even an exit strategy; that is, unless you cherish the bitter cold winter and unyielding 'spring'.