I knew it would be an tense day when I got up and looked out the window. The heavy white clouds were a foreboding sign. I got the older three kids up to go to ski lessons. They dressed as warm as they could. Nothing could prepare them for the coming day. As we hit the point of the mountain, it started to snow. By the time we got to the canyon, we were starting to slide. Once at the ski resort I got out to put on ski boots. My back was quickly covered in snow. One child said, "Is it safe to ski on a day like today?" I replied something like this is the best kind of day to ski. I hoped they didn't hear the tongue in cheek. I stood in the lodge and watched them until they got on the ski lift for the first time. I then went back and forth from the lodge and the van where I could put the heater on high and be warm. The snow dumped on me. I could only imagine the *fun* the kids were having skiing down the mountain.
Two and half hours later, my children found me. They had gone into the store downstairs thinking that's where I would be. I was upstairs. They had time to warm up and process their experience before I got there. That meant they weren't miserable by the time I found them. Make no mistake, though, they had a miserable time. M-i-s-e-r-a-b-l-e. With the snow flying in their eyes, they couldn't see. They were frozen solid on the mountain. Tears had been shed and frozen on their cheeks.
We got into the van and got on the road to get home. There was a big sign with lights flashing, "Four wheel drive or chains required." How would the requirement be enforced? Is there a snow tire police checking each car? Dead giveaway would be a mother driving a Dodge Grand Caravan, I suppose. Always feeling too confident for my own good, I started driving down the mountain. It is 8 miles from the ski resort to the mouth of the canyon. I had to stop twice to de-ice my windshield wipers - no small feat when there is no place to pull over. There was slipping and sliding, white knuckles, a child saying, "Mom! Don't swear!" (in my defense, I didn't know I had), and lots of praying (to offset the swearing). An hour and a half later, we left the canyon. Two and half hours after leaving the ski resort, we got home. It is a 30 mile drive.
Just to boast on my kids, it was my oldest who suggested we say a prayer when we started driving. It was my second oldest who suggested blessing our drive-thru Subway, and my third child who confessed to praying in his mind on our drive down. My children are turning out pretty well in spite of their mother who swears.
My mother-in-law is an artist. A few years ago she discovered Bear Lake. My family has been going to Bear Lake since before I was born. We go every summer and LOVE it. My mother-in-law has been painting beautiful pictures of Bear Lake for a few years and I have loved every one of them. My favorite picture has been the watercolor she painted of the store at the marina called "Cisco's." I watched while it was in progress and quietly coveted it. This is what she gave our family for Christmas.
Hubby plays jungle basketball twice a week. He has broken a toe and rib, sprained his ankles, and often comes home with bruises or a back out of whack. He loves it. Every time he comes home with a new injury, I just roll my eyes. This year I designed a t-shirt. He has one white and one gray so he can wear it either team he plays on (darks or whites).
I designed these t-shirts and a sweatshirt for my family. This was my secret and clever Christmas gift. I am simply impressed with myself. Okay, the truth is that I used more shirts than seen in this picture. Apparently, you do have to make a mirror image of it before you transfer it onto the shirt. It DOES make a difference with the S.
