I traveled a two-lane road that had been reduced to a one-lane road due to blowing snow.

It was so cold that my neighbor Crandall had to stop using silverware because the forks kept freezing to his tongue.

The local optician, Reed Wright, was giving free ice scrapers with the purchase of a new pair of eyeglasses.

Roland Stone said he that he had seen squirrels throwing themselves at his electric fence.

I told my grandson that the winters aren’t as bad as they used to be. I added that when I was his age, I had to walk all the way across the room through three feet of snow to change the TV channel — uphill both ways.

We didn’t have it that bad. We had a color TV. It was brown.

What do Minnesotans do in warm weather? It depends if it falls on a weekend or not. How do you clear ice off the windows of tall buildings in Minnesota? You use a skyscraper.

Knock, knock.

Who’s there?

Personal.

Personal who?

Personal freeze his posterior off in Minnesota.

Believing that it’s difficult to make a comeback if you haven’t gone anywhere and in the hopes of doing some thawing, I secured employment in California.

It was 22 degrees below zero when I left Minnesota on a January day. It was 82 degrees above when I got off the airplane in San Luis Obispo. Of course, that didn’t take into account the arctic winds up to 5 miles per hour. Feel my pain?

I never thought I’d miss scraping the ice off my windshield.

And I was right. I didn’t miss it.

There were shoes on the road here and there as I moved about California. They were placed there by Minnesotans to help them find their way home — not unlike what Hansel and Gretel did with breadcrumbs.

I found the room provided by my employer in a Morro Bay hotel. It was nice and when I called room service and asked for another towel, they sent one to my room. The hotels I typically stay in respond to such a request with, “Please wait, someone else is using it.”

Everything about Morro Bay, located on the Pacific Coast about halfway between San Francisco and Los Angeles near Hearst Castle and Big Sur, was lovely. Many historians credit Cabrillo for the discovery of California in 1542. Others believe he was searching for Minnesota. Morro Bay has mild weather all year long and there is no traffic, unless you count birds, sea mammals and fish. It has a population of 10,350 and Jack LaLanne, the fitness guru.

I saw mountains that used to be volcanoes — a string called the Nine Sisters that appear like giant stepping-stones. I visited one called Morro Rock. What dance did the Pilgrims do? The Plymouth Rock. I did the Morro Rock. A volcano is a mountain with hiccups.

William Randolph Hearst told an architect that he wanted to build a little something in 1927. Eighteen years later, Casa Grande (Hearst Castle), a 165-room castle with 127 acres of gardens, terraces, pools, walkways and a zoo loomed large at San Simeon. Consider how long it takes you to visit 165 rooms. After Hearst’s death, the Castle became state property.

The first citizens of Morro Bay contended with winds that carried enough sand to clog wells. A strong horse could barely pull a small buggy through the deep sand on the streets. To combat the strong wind, eucalyptus trees were planted. These trees line the streets today. I asked a resident walking his dog if the eucalyptus trees attracted any immigrant koala bears. He gave me an odd look and said that both he and his dog were late for their therapists’ appointments.

The drivers were exceedingly polite. In California, a pedestrian has the right-of-way and not a death wish. I went walking and stopped to listen to a pair of owls hooting a duet. I crossed the street and looked back toward the tree hosting the owls when a vehicle pulled up to the uncontrolled intersection and stopped. He smiled and motioned me to cross the street. I had just come from across the street and had no desire to go back, but I did. I returned the driver’s smile and crossed. Politeness needs to be rewarded. I felt like an old lady being forced to cross the street by a Boy Scout desperate for a merit badge. I waited like a chicken that had made it until another car came along and another driver waved me across the street.

I learned that the formula for living in California is the same as the secret to a happy marriage. When you find a fault, don’t dwell on it.

Hartland resident Al Batt’s column appears every Wednesday and Sunday.