It blew in from the southwest, from Iowa, a few flakes at first, in late morning. Then more flakes as the storm increased, got stronger, grew bolder. Soon I couldn't see the road that trails by the cabin, couldn't glimpse the pasture field just beyond the driveway. Couldn't see the tops of the now naked black willow trees that windbreak the cabin.
First big snow of the season. About six inches dumped before it moved on east, giving those folks a taste of winter as well.
Nearly put the Pickle Party in a pickle--but it didn't. Sturdy Wisconsinites know how to drive in snow, even when the road disappears in front of them. Four-wheel drive weather. More than 50 turned out to celebrate pickles, pickle patches, and pickle factories--and hear about IN A PICKLE: A FAMILY FARM STORY.
The Old Timer Says: "There are no shortcuts to important places."