Breaking zero in Dakota

Early Christmas celebrations brings me back to my hometown of Salem, South Dakota; a small community in the middle of the Great Plains where flags fly and pick-ups roar. It's been an extremely chilly week of building snowmen with my nephews when the temps break zero. Or making clay reindeer with my neice when they don't. Winter arrived two days before I did; coming in on an ice storm first, followed by two days of blizzard leaving most of the state without electricity. The local gossip rang of neighbors trapped at home without internet, TV, or refridgerators. Tossed back to the 19th century while living in the middle of the most affluent and modern country on the globe. Surviving such fridged winters takes a rare breed of humans who have had decades or even centuries of conditioning passed down to them from generation to generation. The secret of survival is now second nature, set into gear as soon as the first snow flake falls. We all know the basic rules of winter survival like never lick a frozen pole. But what are those other deep hidden secrets that only the chosen, frozen few know? Based on my own personal experiences of growing up in great tundra land as well as from observations this past week, I've come up with a small list. First, take all your perishable goods and simply place them in the front porch; the part of your house that's too hot sit in during the summer and too cold in the winter. They'll keep until spring. Next, never under any circumstances shut off your vehicle. Stop by the local coffee shop, get your morning brew and local gossip, hang out for an hour, and just keep that puppy running at all times. Another cherished secret I've noticed is that you should never scoop the walk in front of your house. No one ever uses it anyway, so don't bother wasting precious energy. Also, don't bother washing your cars for another 3 months either (or until the food in the porch starts to go off). Your doors will freeze shut and they'll be just as filthy 5 miles down the road anyway. Eat plenty of meat and cheese. It packs on precious insulator fat. Top it off with beer. It has carbs that will eventually convert into more insulator fat. Don't wear hats, scarves, or gloves. They only prove your weakness to the extremese. Real weather-tough men wear only a flannel and a corn seed hat for protection (in camoflage print, of course). Thanks for global warming, winters are now a "light" version of my childhood years when snow drifts reached the roof tops, and milk runs were done on horseback because wheels couldn't make it. I was 12 years old that Christmas morning that greeted us with 12 inches of fresh snow. Living on a farm, the animals always came first, so my siblings and I had to scoop all the feeding troughs before opening gifts. This wasn't so bad except for the fact that the wind never stops blowing here. As soon as we got one scooped clean, another would blow shut again. It was a constant struggle until the sun went down. That Christmas I got the gift of respect for mother nature and her powers over humans. Despite all the rules for survival, she'll always be one step ahead of us brewing up something we never prepared for.