In the absence of trees and stones, the early prairie settler turned to sod blocks for his home, twisted dried grass for fuel, and sticks and clay for his chimney. Not surprisingly, the home was often smokey and cold. Until the great prairie-taming invention of barbed wire, livestock constantly broke through skimpy stick and hedge fences. But such adversities, of course, bred into at least the rural Midwesterner those qualities of hard work, resourcefulness, and dogged spirit that some of us Midwestern expatriots like to think we carry today. The Weather .
Midwestern weather is violent.
It is the kind of cold that makes exposed skin tingle and draw tight, as though the blood under the skin were rushing to get to some warmer organs of the body. And the summers are hot. And there are wonderful violent thunderstorms and awful tornadoes and periods of devastating drought. Oh, we Midwesterners love to talk about the weather. Lush Fields .