This past “summer” in the Netherlands was pretty much what I’ve come to expect after two years.
It was cold. It was cloudy. It was wet. I grumbled and pouted and questioned nearly every day why I had chosen to live in such a godforsaken place, which I can only assume means I should get my Dutch passport in the mail any day now. (“Je bent één van ons. Veel sterkte.”)
But as much as I know you all love to hear me complain (why else would you be here?), I am also aware it can, like all good things, become tiresome. So rather than simply rant about Dutch weather, I’d actually like to rave — just a little — about Minnesota’s.