A Snow Globe Type of Day

Yesterday the Boyfriend and I headed up to Banner Ridge for some snowshoeing on what turned out to be the perfect day. We went a couple weeks ago, and although it's always fun to get out, the sky was gray, the snow was packed down, and the place was crowded. The last of these complaints is entirely our fault--or the dogs, depending on how you look at it. We didn't get up to the parking area at Whoop-em-up until way too late in the day, mostly because we had to wait for the pet store to open so we could buy coats for our dogs. There, I said it. We bought coats for the dogs. They really help them last longer in the snow. Apollo's keeps her warm, and Kira's just keeps her from getting baseball-sized snowballs on her belly and legs. Yeah, it's kind of (ok, really) embarrassing, but it makes it so much more fun for them and I don't feel like a bad parent. Anyway, back to yesterday . . .

We made it up to Banner Ridge relatively early. Although we weren't the first people there, I think most of the other people were on the groomed trails, where dog people like us aren't allowed. You never know what kind of snow you're going to get, but yesterday's was perfect. There was already a trail, but it still had a good six to eight inches of fluffy powder on top. Even better, the sun was shining in full force, providing vibrant blue skies as the backdrop for our snowy stroll. The combination of the sun and the powder resulted in pixie dust snow--you know, that really fine, light, glittery snow. I felt like Wendy from Peter Pan being showered with fairy dust as the snow blew off the tree tops. Then Kira stepped on the back of the Boyfriend's snowshoe and his cursing brought me back to reality.

Reality was better than daydreams yesterday, however--cursing and clumsy dogs included. We plodded slowly upwards toward Banner Ridge, met with gorgeous views all the way. Along the ridge, the Boyfriend ran into an old friend and we chatted for a while. (Yes, Idaho is a small place.) We walked along the ridge line for a bit before winding back into the trees and downhill. As we were coming down a long, straight stretch of the trail, I had a wonderful moment where my brain just went blank, totally quiet. I wasn't thinking about what we would have for dinner, if I was going to have any work this week, what form of melted cheese sounded the best, if I had paid my credit card bill, or whether Sasquatch would need snowshoes (yes, this was a debate earlier in the hike). All I could hear was the crunch, crunch of my snowshoes on the trail and the whooshing of my poles as they skimmed over the snow, my arms too tired to lift them high enough to clear the tall plateaus of snow on either side of the trail. These moments are few and far between for me, but they're worth the wait. The quiet and the peace and the stillness are absolutely cathartic. I snapped out of my moment rejuvenated, thankful, and energized as my thoughts returned to melted cheese.

It was a perfect day--a perfect, beautiful day in one of those gorgeous places that make me thankful to live where I do and have someone to enjoy those places with. And yes, we had grilled cheese sandwiches when we got home.

Yesterday's significant (and possibly signficant) events

Two, perhaps three, significant events happened yesterday. First, I witnessed the first snow of the season. Well, my first snow of the season. I heard rumors that a few flakes fell earlier this week, but since I didn't see them, they didn't count. Yesterday, flakes came down from 1 p.m. until 4 or 5 p.m. For all the complaining I do about winter (that's a lot, for those of you who are lucky enough not to hear it), I was really excited. The changing of the seasons is always exciting, even if it is from a better season to a crummy season. The snowfall yesterday also served as validation that I am in touch with the universe and its meteorological workings. About an hour before the flakes started, I thought to myself that for the first time this year, it felt like winter. Not like a crisp fall day, but like winter. And then, voila! The Boyfriend and I were both working from home yesterday afternoon, him upstairs in the bonus room and me downstairs in the official office that I am starting to enjoy. We took a midafternoon break for hot chocolate with caramel flavored marshmallows. What good is the first snow of the year if you can't look out the window with a cup of hot chocolate?


The second significant event yesterday was Becky's birthday. As birthdays do, this event comes around every year and always seems to serve as a reality check and life inventory moment for me. Once Becky's birthday is here, I know I will be putting the same number of candles on my cake in less than 6 weeks. This year marks the one year countdown until the big 3-0, an event my mother assured me was her hardest birthday. Thanks, Mom. But I'm not worried about that. I've seen others live through it with no ill consequences (excluding a slight hangover, perhaps) and I'm actually looking forward to what the next decade has in store. But I'm getting ahead of myself. When Becky celebrates her birthday, I always have this moment of incredulity where I realize we're real adults. This is easier for me to see with Becky--she's got a real job, husband, and kids. But sometimes Becky and I will always be second graders at the skating rink in my head. However, this year I'm just thankful that we've come so far but ended up back in the same place. Birthdays, whether yours or others, are a great time to be thankful--both for the past and for what's yet to come.


The third event--which may or may not be significant, the jury is still out--took place when The Boyfriend took the puppies out in the yard last night after the snow stopped. In the first garden bed, hardly visible if you didn't know what you were looking for, he saw a small green shoot coming up from a clove of garlic that I planted over 6 weeks ago. I would post a picture, but it's so small you can hardly see it, and you would just laugh that this tiny thing may actually be a significant event in my life. Don't mock. I had given up on the cloves long ago (and had started lamenting that I had buried a perfectly yummy, edible item in the dirt), but there was no reason to pull them out since I didn't need the bed space. We'll see if anything comes of it. Let's just say I won't be taking garlic off the grocery list just yet.