Hello from the land of the occasional blue sky. With March over half gone, the sun peeks out a bit more these days. Mornings are still plenty crispy, slush frozen into whichever shape it was last spun into, hands stiff and frozen on the steering wheel until the heater has kicked in and begun blowing warm air on them. One gets good at driving with just a finger, a bump to the wheel now and then, hands pulled into coat sleeves.

We have begun marveling at our back yard lately. We think there is a good four feet of snow back there. Once, we had to step down about eighteen inches from the deck to the lawn. Now, we would have to climb about three feet up from the deck, just to get on the surface. Of the tangle of willows in the open space behind our house, only a few pitiful branches still poke out.

This is reported to be the eighth snowiest winter in recorded history, the fourth snowiest in the last fifty years. Gone are friendly porch-to-porch neighborly chats, since we no longer see when our neighbors emerge from their houses. Everyone is snug and private behind piles of snow taller than we are. And it is not hard to believe this was a winter for the record books- it has been a dark, snowy, windy winter. Even the diehards have hibernated a bit more than usual this year.

In anticipation of sunny days ahead, and a long shoulder season between ski resort closures and trail openings, I found myself in our local sports consignment store the other day. I have been threatening to purchase something that will allow winter trail access, and would you know it, a lady just my size had just dropped off her barely-used cross country skis and boots. The price was right, the size was right, and they were sitting there, winking at me, still so new yet... so i bought 'em. pretty much finished my chances of buying alpine skis yet this year, but I don't suppose I could have bought them for $80 anyway. I went home, a skinny-ski virgin, put them on, and began climbing the trail behind our house. After a mile or so, I began to get the hang of it, and four miles later, I found myself blazing a trail through untracked snow, perhaps fifteen hundred vertical feet higher. Then I had to turn around, and learn how to downhill. I had never freeheeled in my life, nor had I skied anything but those new short, shapey skis. They took me for quite a ride, as I careened through aspen stands, rock outcroppings, over fallen logs and frozen streams, completely unable to control speed and direction. Occasionally, the sun focused it's rays through an opening in the trees, and turned the soft, untracked snow to slush. Abruptly stopping on a slushy patch without having one's heels attached to anything can be damaging to a lot of one's parts, particularly one's ego, as one knows how comical she must look, face plant after face plant. It was a warm day, so as I climbed, layer after layer was shed until bare skin was exposed, soaking up a winter's worth of missed vitamin D.

It is a sport I am not finished with. I can't wait to get out again and apply what i have learned, just as soon as new skin grows under the scrapes on the forearms, that got stuck through the snow's crust countless times. In the meantime, my friend Mel has purchased all new equipment, so her heavily used old gear is available for borrowing. We are going skiing tomorrow night, she is determined that I shall use textbook form while learning, so I do not have to unlearn bad habits later on. It will be my forth time on a pair of skis.

Happy St. Paddy's day (even though it's almost over). I got pinched today, even though I wore green underwear.

Hello to my dears

a few pictures for you, from the 26th of February- our last day off. What a day. We got up early and left for Vail Pass as soon as we located all of our gear. We even took my snowboard. Machine Gun Ridge has a long, windward slope perfect for big turns in untracked snow, and Bobby took me for several runs down it. It was a little painful riding a snowmobile with a snowboard strapped to my back, slid between my backpack and my back, but it was a good compromise for us- he put twice the miles on his sled than I put on mine, I put miles on my snowboard with a good anaerobic workout, and we both went home exhausted.

I realized again how used to riding on-piste I am. I ride with all my weight on my front foot, to allow me to be able to flex and twist my board with my back foot, and gyrate my entire body along with my snowboard. This allows for immediate, precision handling and split second decisions on snow not more than a few inches deep, and is the reason I can kick a lot of people's... well, selves... on bumps on a snowboard. Not bragging, I just happen to be a little more dedicated to technique than some. Apparently, it even gets noticed sometimes, because I got called "fearless mogul girl" on the lift yesterday.

(Ok, before i finish this story, i just have to digress, while I am on the subject of bumps...here goes.) There are snowboarders, and then there are snowboarders who ride the bumps, and then there are snowboarders who ride the park. While i may never land an inverted aerial, I have no desire to as long as I have bumps. Nothing is as exhilarating as knowing that you can take what the mountain gives you- maybe not with a lot of flare, but with fluid motion, air under your feet with each turn, the exhilaration of nailing each landing, keeping your line, feeling your body twist and bend like a slinky, but your board under you as solid and predictable as the parking lot far below. For those who become bored with spending more time on the chairlift than they do on the snow, I have this to tell you- it is time you begin a long and meaningful, love-hate relationship with big bumps. You will holler, you will curse, you will say "never again" when you have to stop to gulp some air halfway down a thousand vertical feet of crests and troughs, but when you get down to the chair, every time, you will want to do it just once more. My favorite bumps are through the glades, unpredictable, close to the rocks and trees, with alternate routes that belong only to me. Of course, now i have to include the caveat- my knees and back are only twenty-four and three-fourths years old, and still do as they are told without complaining very much. So I understand, I do, when you say the bumps are not your cuppa tea. But still, i wish i could find someone to snowboard with who loves them as I do. So I at least have to try to convince someone out there that the fun is worth the pain.

But now onto what I started to say, when I started that first paragraph. One does not ride powder as one rides bumps and groomers. If one rides with their weight on their front foot, they will bury their nose, and stop. And a snowboarder does not have poles to pull herself out of a flat spot. If she stops, she has no choice but to step off her board, into knee-deep, or hip-deep, or waist-deep snow. On a gently angled slope, it is easy to find a new center of balance, but on a steeper slope, say 40 degrees, in deep powder, I am a fish out of water. I spend more time falling, tumbling, and digging snow out of my pants than I do riding. So yes, I endured a bit of mocking from my better, more mechanically-minded half. He seems to enjoy my failures so immensely. He even gets excited about narrating the video he took of me snowboarding on such a slope that day- "Here she comes!-no, wait- plop...she's up and off! -wait for it...plop. ...And up...and plop. And plop. Ok, now she stays up for just a minute... falls into a tree well... plop. Digs herself out. Gets up. Rides three feet. Plop. Honey, I don't think you're as good at this as you think you are. Plop. This is kinda funny! Plop. All I can see is a giant puffs of snow- must be you falling again! All this is, is five minutes of you falling every few seconds!"

He thinks he had more fun that day that I did.

I do believe that was day off number seven for this winter. I actually have three slowish days, the next three days, and after that, we begin building into the frantic crescendo that is spring break. It all breaks loose about the 15th, and continues until the end of March. The sun has been shining lately, reminding us why we like it here. It has been a long, cold, dark, dreary, snowy winter until several weeks ago, but now, with a Vitamin D fix, spirits seem to be on the rise. last winter, I left every morning with all of my snow gear, ready to be donned at a moment's notice. I am finally back to doing that again. In between work yesterday, I found time to make six runs down the 'Zuma line, an arrow-straight line under the Montezuma chair. My thighs hurt, my abs hurt, my shoulders hurt, and my behind hurts- the right cheek anyway. It is a wonderful feeling.

Bobby hasn't been so lucky. He spent the day on the roof of one of our houses, shoveling off two feet of snow, and chipping at the ice dam that has been causing water to run down the insides of the walls and soak the carpets. I feel a little bad, starting to finally enjoy winter, when it is still such hard work for him. I offered to help him, but like a gentleman, he told me to stay off the roof. He has become a bit protective of me lately, since Michelle. We all look at Wendell, and hold a bit tighter to those we still have.

I know it has been a while since I have posted on this blog, and it may be a while again... it's exhausting to try to find items worthy of recounting for you when all we do is work.

Oh, yes, and and cook. (just thought of something else i could tell you) I am back in the kitchen these days, trying new recipes to support healthier habits. In the middle of everything else, my dietitian friend has convinced me that ignorance is not necessarily bliss when it comes to nutrition and toxic eating habits. After exhaustive research (yeah, it has been pretty exhausting (just ask my family) but I try to leave no stone unturned) I have decided to try an mostly raw, organic, plant-based diet for awhile. I know this sounds blasphemous to some of you, and i shall certainly not be trying to convince you, but for me... I am cutting out all animal products (except for honey- life without peanut butter and honey would be sad indeed). There is just too much evidence of the disease-promoting qualities in animal proteins, especially dairy products and meats. That's not to say that i won't eat what is served to me at a restaurant or at your house, or that i force poor Bobby D. to follow my dietary guidelines, but when I have the choice, vegan is the choice i make. So every meal must be tailored to an easy switch between herbivore and carnivore. A vegan main dish, which can be mixed with meat and dairy as it is served.

It seems to be a natural switch for me. Maybe I was unaware of some still-unidentified food allergies, of maybe it is just switching to a low-fat, carb based diet, which my body has been begging for by way of cravings for the last five years, but I don't notice the uncomfortable inner workings of me as much these days. I have never loved meat as much as potatoes, or cheese as much as bread anyway, and I find that i do not even miss them when they are gone. Especially since I have the option of vegan junk food once in a while, organic soy ice cream instead of Blue Bunny... gotta love living in Summit County, where food like that actually sells, and every restaurant has at least a few veggie options.

Adios my friends, don't be strangers.