{ The movers came on the coldest day }

The movers came on the coldest day of January, 1987. It was negative eighty with the windchill, and our front door was propped open so the burly Norwegian movers could come and go as needed. Ice-encrusted box after box stacked up in the living room, with labels like Good China and Matt's Toys. Later I found many of those colorful, plastic toys shattered from the amazingly bitter cold.

I could say my seven years in North Dakota weren't all that bad, but I must confess ... they were horrible.