Yesterday felt like a throwback.
Back before a thousand people took up skiing and snowboarding a day. Back before the world was hot and crowded and melting. Back before I was born and my wife was born and back before our parents might have even been born. Back when snowflakes looked like snowflakes.
Stowe was empty. The Ski Capital of the East was barren.
But we were there. And the snow was falling. And the lines were no place to be found. And the 3.7 mile Toll Road trail only had seven people on it. And the powder was adding up. And the ice was gone. And the snow kept falling. And the runs kept adding up.
I think it was the best day of skiing I've had in my life.
I really could ruin this surprise.
Marianna is on a plane and she is coming home and she was gone and I knew she didn't like the color we painted our bedroom cause it was too close to the trim, which makes total sense, but after spending the time to paint it you don't want to have to do it again so when you are missing your wife and want to make her day when she gets home you go to the store and find a yellow that has a good name and you burn the weekend and then you end up with a sunny room in a cold state.
So, if Marianna is reading this on the plane, I'm in trouble. But if not, I've got twenty minutes til she get excited.
"When it finally snows you should walk up to Metonomy Rocks park. Its total Courier&Ives." - Joanne
That was the sentiment in June when we moved to Arlington and down the street from both Jo and from Metonomy Rocks.
I'd been jonesing to make the trek up the long hill to see it, but the weekends of late have been somewhat full (snowboarding and chili eating), and the nights are just too cold and dark to go see an Ives painting.
But last weekend, as I was again caught up – this time helping a good friend move from Connecticut to Jamaica Plain – Marianna popped on the boots and topped off the camera with some winter wonder.
This is a bit of her trip up the hill from our house into the park.
Also, let it be noted that we've gotten 48" of snow so far this year. In under a month we've surpassed last year's total (35") and we got an extra 5-8" yesterday that isn't reflected here, but was reflected when I got home from Masa last night and was shoveling at 12:24am.
Auburn are the national champions this morning, and nobody, present company included, is questioning the sanity of the Gene Chizik hire as they did just a mere 800 days ago.
That's five for the SEC in a row, and Ole Miss still has yet to make it to the SEC Championship game. Maybe we should look into one of those Big XII openings? We're going noplace playing all these national champs on those glorious fall Saturdays in the Southland.
Yeah, kicking in screaming. That's the way our Christmas tree left the house this yer.
I mean, it had only been sitting in our house for 6 weeks, losing water, becoming a tinder box just waiting to go up in flames. Prolly best we got it out of here.
So this is late, but we spent a super quiet NYE with our friends Andi and Tony. Might be the first time I called someone on New Year's Eve, at 5pm, and they didn't have any plans, and we didn't have any plans. We headed over. A nice dinner, some beers. And bang. 2011 is in the house.
Last night we made a Blogston first (and maybe a Micah older than 10 first): we built a puzzle. Ole Miss basketball on the tube, fire on the hearth, and the Whitsons making sense of the madness. Take that, 500 pieces.