The year 2023 arrived amidst a blast of cold and snow. That wasn’t unusual for this neck of the woods, although Mother Nature went a bit overboard regarding her winter weather deliveries. Classes were canceled so often that school officials began to publicize when there would be school instead of announcing yet another snow day. The school year was extended into the summer of 2026 to make up for missed days.

February brought little relief from the unrelenting cold and snow. In an effort to liven things up and stave off cabin fever, I whipped up a batch of my Mom’s baked beans. This provided no small amount of amusement later when my wife and I both tried to blame certain gastrointestinal noises on our cat, Sparkles.

The month of March heralded the official First Day of Spring. Winter simply laughed at this like the bully that it was and pelted us with another series of snowstorms. It was the weather equivalent of receiving recurring wedgies.

Winter marked its 87th month in April. One springlike afternoon I took our dog, Bella, for a walk and encountered our neighbor’s turkeys. The gregarious gobblers strolled right up to me. This freaked Bella out, so she ran off. I don’t think she’ll forget her turkey skirmish anytime soon.

May arrived and it was as if Mother Nature flipped a switch from Winter to Summer. The mountainous snowbank that had occupied our garden melted in just a few days. I wouldn’t believe this myself but for my iPhone photos.

Despite worries about a cold, wet spring, our crops got planted pretty much on schedule. As if someone had flipped a switch, farmers’ concerns went from things being too wet and cold to things being too hot and dry. This isn’t unusual for this neck of the woods.

Call us wild and crazy, but my wife and I brought May to a close by watching a marching band parade during the North Iowa Band Festival in Mason City. Sparkles stayed home and thus wasn’t blamed for anything.

Summer brought levels of heat and dryness that are often associated with the Sahara. This secretly pleased some people. I’ve learned that there are folks who can’t be happy unless they have something to grumble about.

Our farm managed to get under a few rainclouds at crucial junctures during the growing season and crop yields were pretty much average. This despite the certainty, according to some people, that we lost the crops multiple times during the growing season.

The garden started out as a hodgepodge of spindly little plants but transformed overnight into a jungle of vines and stalks. It was as if someone had thrown a switch.

Over the course of spring and summer, my brother Les and his son Dustin, owners of LND Construction, worked on cleaning up our parents’ farmstead and repairing the storm-ravaged shop. I am pleased beyond measure to finally have the farm shop I’ve always wanted; my only regret is that it happened twenty years after I exited the farming business.

This past year, my wife and I made a couple of voyages to Kansas City to visit our youngest son and his wife and our three-year-old grandson. Our grandson is the cutest little guy ever. I’m not just saying this because we are his grandparents. Whenever we show his photo to a friend or a relative, the response is invariably, “Aww, what a cute little guy!” So there.

Because our son and his family live in Kansas City, my wife and I are required by federal law to be Chiefs fans. This has proved to be an improvement from the previous football team we backed. When we watch a game these days there’s a lot more cheering along the lines of “Go, go, go!” instead of “Wait, wait, wait! Wait until next year.”

As Chiefs fans, we’re automatically part of Team Swelce. Taylor Swift has been keeping company with a Chiefs tight end named Travis something or the other. Swift, the galaxy’s undisputed mega-superstar, has pulled the hitherto obscure pro football player — the poor guy only has two Superbowl rings and just a few dozen commercial endorsements — into her rarified orbit. We are vicariously enjoying the Taylor-Trav romantic saga. They are our version of royalty.

We relished several weeks of splendid autumn weather as 2023 wound down. It remained snowless for almost all of December, which was the topic of innumerable conversations. Despite all that talk, nobody did anything about the weather.

A snowstorm arrived right on cue at Christmas. And just like that it was winter again and another year was over, as if someone had thrown a switch.

— Jerry’s book, Dear County Agent Guy, is available at http://Workman.com and in bookstores nationwide.