This is Minnesota. Cold hands, especially the backs. Icy everything. It's hard to move. Yet it is in movement that heat is generated. I have these black gloves with the finger tips cut out for writing. It is hard to type with them honestly. Subtle differences in how they feel. Micro-messages to my brain. small perturbations, pushing me off course, causing typos, slowing my flow. But this is Minnesota, don't'cha know? I proceed with hindered flow. I write it out. I've got my beverage. I've got my classical music. Now I just need to create. My brain is icy. My mood is cold. This is Minnesota. A place no one should go.