Skiing

After being put on Elesa's list of blogs she checks without hope of seeing a new post, I've made a goal to post more often just to prove her wrong. Although she's right, I've had one new post in 3 mos. But that will ALL change, if only so Elesa has something to read on the internet. So last week I went skiing for the third time in my life. Although I grew up among the greatest snow on earth I didn't ski much. The first time I went with my college boyfriend I'm sure he thought it was hilariously funny when I fell off the lift (right after take off so I didn't die or anything) (Obviously) and got clotheslined by a tree branch and ran over a little girl (admittedly a better skier than me although 15 years younger than me at the time). So thanks Boone for the memorable, if disastrous, experience, it taught me nothing. Except maybe to duck. My 2nd trip I took ski lessons, instructive but uneventful. This time I went out on the regular runs with my loving husband. Who had a good laugh when I slid face first down the mountainside about 50 feet. Right before I'd been bragging about how good I was getting. After a series of tumbles I finally felt I was getting the hang of it, here's my photographic evidence, I actually got some air in one of them.