My husband and I are looking for land to build a house somewhere north of the Twin Cities. We currently live at the cross-section of two 55-MPH county roads where noise from traffic and nuisance neighbors has increased. We're looking for a quiet sanctuary where we can eventually retire. Last week he sent me a Google Earth pin of 5 acres of property in a rural neighborhood about an hour north of the metro. I opened up the pin to see this in Google Earth: At first glance, it looks nice! There are existing trees to the south and east and plenty of space. Neighbors' houses aren't right next to one another. Could be the peaceful retreat we're looking for! Then I zoomed out. We've had enough negative experiences with several current neighbors riding noisy ATVs around the neighborhood that I always carefully examine the neighborhood around any property we're interested in. This, below, looks like our worst nightmare. We drove to the property to check it out and it looked idyllic. The neighborhood was very rural, there was a lot of vegetation, it was high ground, not wetland. Private, peaceful and quiet.
Then we drove by the property with all the dirt trails. It's important to note they own a tiny house and but have a huge pole building full of trucks. The trails had deep ruts - likely not from ATVs but from trucks and jeeps. Here's my worst case scenario: This neighbor regularly invites all his beer-swilling, redneck friends with their jacked-up 4-wheel drive vehicles and they go mudding around the property all weekend. Maybe there's a live band, speakers hooked up high on poles so everyone racing around in their trucks can hear it. They shoot off fireworks all night, tattooed women take off their tops, there's devil worshipping and a human sacrifice. Demons are summoned, dark thunderclouds roil overhead and Gozer arrives, unleashing Zuul and Vinz Clortho who rampage through the neighborhood, devouring everyone's small pets. Etc. Thank God for Google Earth. We could have made a horrible mistake.
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Every year my husband and I head up north with a few friends where we rent a cabin on one of Minnesota's many lakes. We spend a week boating, fishing, drinking and relaxing. Sometimes we visit local casinos and shops and there's always a trip or two to town for supplies. We've accrued many memories of our annual summer trips.
Two years ago, August 2016, we stayed on Girl Lake near the small town of Longville, MN. On one of our many trips to town, my friend Susie and I waited by the truck while our friend Mandy walked behind a gas station to dispose of fish guts. Within a minute, she was power-walking back to us, a bear cub behind her. "Is he following me?" She asked, her voice tense. Yes, indeed, he was following her, at an unhurried pace. As the bear came closer we realized he wasn't a bear, but a really shaggy, large dog. The dog came over to us and waited patiently as we each pet him. Susie looked at the tag hanging on his collar. "Bruno" was his name. After visiting with us, Bruno headed down the street. The three of us fretted - where's his owner, why was no one looking for him? Should we tell the local police? We watched Bruno walk with purpose as he disappeared around a corner. I posted his picture on Facebook and one of my friends responded with a link to a news story about Bruno. He was the town's most famous resident and we'd been lucky enough to meet him! Every day, Bruno trekked about 4 miles to town to make his rounds before heading home again. He greeted locals and tourists alike and was well known throughout the state of Minnesota. On Sunday, May 7, Bruno was struck by a car and killed. He'd been 15 years old, a long time for a dog. And a life he enjoyed on his terms, belonging not just to his owners but to the Longville community. Rest in peace, sweet Bruno. We'll always remember you. Minnesotans love to throw around the state's unofficial slogan "Minnesota Nice."
When I first moved to Minnesota, I thought, "It's true, they really are nice here!" And, on the surface, they are nice. They are polite, smile and nod in passing or talk to you about the weather or your car when at the gas pump. They'll hold doors open and make small talk when waiting in line. When you have something in common, they'll chat with you about that - for instance, when my daughter was in preschool, the other moms and I would talk about our kids, the school and even schedule play dates for our kids. Coworkers will invite you to lunch or happy hour and talk about work, partners, kids and so on. There's no shortage of pleasant, daily interactions available with Minnesotans. But I found it impossible to develop more meaningful relationships with these Minnesotans - the other moms, my coworkers. Even people with whom I had so much in common. I'd try inviting them lunch outside of work - say, on the weekend. Or to events like craft shows, or to see a movie. Their responses were alike - they begged off, other commitments, something with family, and so on. But thanked me for thinking of them. This happened so frequently - my inability to connect with all these nice people - that I began to suspect there was something about me that was not likable. What was I doing wrong? Was it my breath? But then I talked to a few other transplants to Minnesota and found out they had similar experiences. Even after years living in Minnesota, they had a huge circle of acquaintances but no close friends yet. So, it wasn't just me! I've finally made some friends here and it only took twenty years. Minnesotans are nice - they are pleasant, agreeable. But when it comes to more meaningful relationships and friendships, they truly are a standoffish bunch. |
About Sally FarleyI'm a typical, hardworking Midwesterner, enduring (and sometimes participating in) the passive-aggressive complexities of life in Minnesota. ArchivesLinksAsk a Manager
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