With her round, rosy cheeks, and blond hair poking out from beneath a winter hat, she looks like she could be cast in the local Christmas pageant as Mrs. Claus. Her smile splits wide as I get out of the car, and she jumps up and down in her boots and anorak, woo-hooing with infectious enthusiasm. “Welcome to our big-ass, beautiful state! We’ve all been peeing our pants a little at the thought of you coming,” she says, squashing me into her bosom.
