It's Just A Matter of Choosing the Right Sport

While on vacation, we discovered that the little girl who despises sports that involve balls, who in fact is flunking physical education at school, loves to ski. SKI! That's a sport that sends lots of folks cringing away. On her first day on skis, Girlie got so comfortable that she was doing the Chicken Dance on her way down the slope. No poles necessary on Belly Flop Run. It was awesome to behold. I took a few warm up runs on Belly Flop myself, being a beginner as well. On my first run, I ran smack dab into one of those orange mesh fences that keep ignoramouses like me away from more experienced skiers. I wasn't hurt in the fall but I wrenched my hip trying to extract my ski from the mesh. A very nice man offered to help me but my pride shouted "no" before my brains could act. So when my muscles thawed out enough to feel it, my skiing day was over. Arrrgh!

Maybe It's Mid-Life Crisis

We're in Maryland at a ski resort. When we arrived last Sunday, there wasn't any snow on the ground but there was a little snow on the ski slopes thanks to modern snow science. The first night it snowed an inch or two, much to the delight of my young nephews who had never seen snow before. Girlie is a snow expert thanks to a clump of family in my home state of Oregon. Then it snowed an official 18 inches thanks to a well timed winter storm. So we have tubed, sledded, gone skiing, and even gone for a ride in a one horse open sleigh on an Amish farm (yes, we sang Jingle Bells). Tomorrow is our last full day here and I intend to take a snow-boarding lesson. I cannot wait. It will be the highlight of my week and yet none of the rest of my family group wants to join me. So of course I wonder who the crazy one is: me, age 44 and determined to snow board or the rest of the family who assumes that I will break a hip. I'll let you know how it turns out.

Happy New Year, I'm moving

So you'll notice that I had nothing to say in December. That's because sometime during that month just past, we found out that we would be moving to a new city. Miami. City where somebody thought that powder blue was a good color for a football uniform. The truth is that I'm very excited. I've lived in Hubby's hometown of Tampa for more than a dozen years and now that my art career is getting in gear, it will be nice to move to a city where people actually buy art. A friend of mine has described Tampa as a cultural wasteland and really, there is some truth to that. Tampa has been an awesome place to raise Girlie but there are probably more art galleries per capita in the arctic. There are so many awesome artists in Tampa and not enough outlets. Frustrating for those in the field. I've been very lucky. Speaking of Girlie, she has been informed about the move and has been practicing her uber-forlorn look ever since. I feel so bad uprooting her from her school in particular but there are lots of Montessori schools in Miami so she'll feel right at home. And we have promised her a house with a pool, something we lack at the moment. So when we move this late spring, she'll get over her angst after the first dip in the pool. So Happy New Year everybody. I'm tapping out this post while holed up in a large cabin in western Maryland where I've come with my husband's extended family. There is a winter storm warning in effect and we are expecting major snow tonight. Hello ski slopes! We went tubing today although Girlie thought it looked entirely too dangerous and opted out of the activity. Who is that kid related too? Hubby and I are all about the thrill-seeking. Anyway, we are enjoying our week-long visit to winter but I know that I will be happy to return to Florida, even though I have to immediately think of some clever way to attract a house buyer in this worst real estate market in history. Sigh, wish me luck.