We went to our friends' home in Grand Haven, MI for the weekend. We figured that we have all been friends since '72. As always we ate and enjoyed the Winter Festival events.

Some prepared food,


Some did sudoku



I took pictures of woodpeckers in the yard


Cowboys in the snowy woods,


Tit mouse in the pines,



Bald eagles at the lake shore,



Ice sculpting at the Holiday Inn,





Cardinals in the bushes,



Crafters in the family room,


Squirrels in the woods.


I enjoyed the view of the back yard.


The crowd at the park to watch the cardboard sled competition.


Some sleds were creative and really 'flew'


or sailed as it were.
.

I tried cross country skiing for the first time in many, many years. It was night and the snow was falling. Five of us went out, one of us quit and four wished they had too.

I skied about three houses down the street to the entrance to the park/trail. There was a bit of an incline up to the pathway, lined by a split rail fence on each side and about four feet wide.

I tried the straight on approach with no luck. Well, no good luck. I went up a few steps but slid back ward before I could reach the top. The foot bed of my waxed skis were spanning the little swale with the toes and heels grounded. I couldn't take big enough steps to get past the swale. Tried a side step that worked well but just before the top the two end posts were too narrow for me to step onto the summit of the trail. So I carefully picked up my right foot and turned the ski ninety degrees and stepped on the summit. As I shifted my weight to my right foot and picked up my remaining ski I started to fall over my planted right foot. It was as if I were being toppled buy the woodsman's axe. I leaned in slow motion. I saw the rail coming up and my pole pulling my arm. Then I buckled and made a pit the size of the largest copper mine in Chile as my but sank into the firm snow.

There I was, blocking the entrance to all who might help, one foot under me pointed to the west. My other foot solid against the two posts straining at my ski pointed South. I was unable to loose my binding or lift my self or purchase a hold with foot or hand. In the vernacular, I was screwed.

I asked my dear friend Phyllis to save my life and pull the ski I left behind over the fence.
Phyllis was concerned about what that would do to my hip, but I wasn't. She strained against the pre-tensioned left leg to pull the ski from the post and to lift it over. There was sufficient slack in my foot, ankle and knee to let it twist and yet leave my hip in its socket. Now I had only to stop laughing long enough to roll UP out of this awful crater created by the impact of my meteoric butt and get my ponderous weight over my skis.


That done I went on down the trail to the woods. With my hood up I couldn't hear the skis or Phyllis behind me. At one point I stopped to make certain that she was making it okay and was nearly run down by her right on my heels. The only sound I heard was the WHOOSH, WHOOSH, WHOOSH of the cold night air racing into and out of my burning lungs. Christ almighty! This is more work than I remember it ever being.

When I got to the woods I stepped out of the tracks to my left and was perhaps a little hasty since I was in a bit of understory and on shaky footing. I told Phyllis I was done. I was going back. She asked if I was sure and I assured her that I was. She suggested that maybe I would want to just do a little in the street. I assured her that I had to do a little to get back to the house and that would be plenty for me.

It was fun! I have been wanting to try again since my heart attack and now I have. I will either have to get in a lot better shape or give it up entirely.

I am perhaps more suited to Buzz-Word or Catch Phrase. I can usually contribute at those and not risk serious injury or over exertion. As I told them all, "It is good preparation for 'the home'. It will help me make friend in the solarium."

We Have Plans!

For the last few years my sister Ann and I have gone down to Texas to visit Big Grandpa and Dolores for a weekend in February. This year Ann decided to fore go that visit and come to Illinois in the summer instead. So this February Ashley, Alex and I are flying down to Texas for a visit. We fly out on Friday and back home on Tuesday over President's Day weekend so they will only miss one day of school. That didn't seem too upsetting for them

:-). The "Old Folks", as they refer to themselves, are compiling a list of things for them to do so the kids won't be bored in the old folks land. Warm weather, the pool, golf cart, the beach, the Ocean, South Padre Island - are the start of their list which sounds like a good start on fun! I am counting on Logan to make no appearance plans until after we return!! Pictures and update when we get back.

A Second Chance

Again we were privileged to sit for the Corapillar. Her generous parents brought her to us while they went to a movie. It is two degrees above zero and they had her wrapped and toasty again.

She played very nicely and was good at amusing Grandma and Grandpa.

She smiled and jabbered.

She stretched and wriggled.

She even fussed a bit.

Then Grandma gave here a bottle and burped her twice. They were both quite content.

Grandpa got to give her a special shoulder to sleep on.

And Grandma has a special place for Cora too.

As Grandma said ...

She leaves her mark on your heart

and she leaves her mark on your shirt.

The Elderly In Their Dotage

Our adventure in babysitting began with the delivery. No, not THAT delivery; it was This delivery.

Julieanna and Geoffrey brought their precious bundle to us. They were hoping we would experience her awful behavior and be sympathetic to their plight.

Alas, that was not to be. We are both oblivious to any possible negatives. Apparently they want to hide her from the muggers and Gypsies. She was disguised as a pink cat or something.

We being more thorough than gypsies found a toasted little creature all snug from her ride.

They left her with a Grandma who was apparently puzzled and an idiot Grandpa who cooed and cajoled.

She claimed to love giggles, but we think NOT. Cora seemed bored with our antics but surely was not sleepy.

She finally wanted fed (or should I say we finally figured out she wanted fed). She was ready NOW, when Grandma had just started to thaw the bottle. She complained mightily and rightly so.

She assumed from our mature appearance we had some sense. Little did she know our sense was long past.

Finally fed and properly burped she consented to play and and to smile at the fool. As proof see exhibit A in the previous post. A video of a bright little girl susceptible to flattery.