There are still patches of snow at the ski resort and when I told my husband yesterday that this was the first year I’ve seen snow like that this late in the year, he told me that I’ve now become a true Townie. Townies are always bemoaning how disastrously ominous the weather is. It either hasn’t snowed enough or it has snowed too much. Winter is too late, or winter is too long, or winter wasn’t bad enough. Every year it is like one big, fat surprise that it is always winter and rarely ever Christmas here.
Anyway, whatever. This has seemed like the longest winter in the history of ever, although it is the first winter here that I didn’t get suicidally depressed, so that’s all to the good.
Fourth of July is the biggest holiday on the mountain. The hippy migration is nearing its peak coupled with the happy families coming to camp in the mountains.
Imagine Mayberry meets Burning Man, sort of. I will be working the entire weekend and miss all of it.
Yesterday we took a 10-mile walk around the lake. The weather was perfect.
We didn’t set out to walk ten miles; it just sort of accidentally happened. I don’t know how to explain how one accidentally takes a 10-mile walk, but we did. It was good to get outside and away from the computer.
We’re off to someone’s 50th birthday party this evening and if I don’t spend some quality time (wink, wink, nudge, nudge) with my husband today then you’ll likely hear about our murder-suicide in the news.
Hope you have a Happy 4th of July!