Lad and Me at Christmas
voices singing, "Let's be jolly, pack my ass with border collie..." We live "out here on the edge of the prairie," as the guy on the radio used to say, and when the wind comes rushing down the plain this time of year, there is no sweetly waving wheat; it just feels anywhere from bitterly to lethally cold. You can argue whether or not it's the most wonderful time of the year, I suppose, but opinions aside, late December on the northern plains is cold. Taking your pants off in a...