I had many many goals set for today and the two days that follow. Because I wont be looking after any grandchildren I have no excuses for not attending to details of life. Some of those details are boring (yes, the stuff you and I do to get from one day to the next), some are challenging (deciding where to go for a ski week outside Wisconsin in five weeks, given that we all have no idea what the status of Covid will be in five weeks), and some are just plain old fun (soaking up a forest on skis at our local county park, after a breakfast of reheated croissants).
Let's plunge straight to the fun stuff.
During breakfast, Ed tried to convince me that Durango, Colorado is my best choice for skiing, despite the fact that the town is many many hours away from Denver, where presumably I could fly to from Madison. When I protested the long drive, he noted that I could additionally fly from Denver to Durango. Never! -- I said. Short flights are the worst! They are always on tiny planes that rock in all directions the minute a cloud puffs up in front of them. Moreover, once I'd arrive in Durango, I'd have to rent a car, because it is impossible to imagine that I could ski straight out of the tiny airplane onto beautifully groomed Nordic trails. Not that I even know a thing about Nordic trails in Durango. This was all Ed's idea because I believe he once traveled through Durango.
After this, we did go out to ski locally. It was cold, and the 1/16 of an inch of fresh snow did nothing to take away the iciness of the terrain. Still, skiing in the park to the right of the road at least keeps us off groomed trails, so however slippery it is, it wont shatter our bones if we fall. And, as always, it was peaceful and beautiful!
An apres-ski treat:
In the afternoon, I set out to touch base with the grandkids who haven't been part of my orbit this past week. I did not strike gold.
Sandpiper was napping when I called.
Primrose and I communicated via text -- a preferred form of communication of all the older grandgirls.
Juniper was unavailable. She wont be available for a video chat for a good six months, I should think.
And Sparrow hates with a passion meeting up via Zoom. I promised him that he could go on practicing his handwriting (apparently his preoccupation this afternoon) even as I chatted "at" him via the screen, but that wasn't going to cut it either.
The conclusion? Sometimes grandkids have better things to do than to humor grandma. Which honestly is a very good thing!
In the evening, after a dinner, I struggled to enjoy episode 6 of Breaking Bad. How can a series be so good and so, well, unenjoyable? Life is full of contradictions.
