This past weekend we ventured to Tyler, MN for their annual Aebleskiver Days which was essentially a week-long festival centered around Aebleskivers, in more obvious terms, pancake balls. They are delicious and really, any chance to get a large group of friends together for some intense bags, beer pong, and seizure-induced glow-stick dancing is good reason enough.
A large part of the town is centered around farming and everywhere you turned were older men in plaids, dark demin jeans and used cowboy boots. I imagine all of them are up at the crack of dawn, riding their combines, baling hay and such. For me, this is a bit early, but for most of these neighbors it's something closer to midday. What they do at 4:00 a.m. is anyone's guess. I only know that they're incredibly motivated about it and talk about the dawn as if it's a personal reward, bestowed on account of their great virtue.
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