Fresh powder


                               




Yesterday Tim and I got a babysitter and went to watch the second part of Mockingjay. Then we took it a step further and headed to Rustic Goat for late dinner and a drink. I know. Just like childless adults do on any average Friday night. Sigh.

Speaking of whom, we were accompanied by my very good friend James, who half-joking-half-seriously suggested that given the fat snowflakes that were falling outside, I should wake up today and go skiing, then blog about it. "Call it 'first ski of the year'" he said, matter of fact kind of guy he is. Then he proceeded to choke on his beer when I told him that there is an apparatus called a Thule Chariot that I use to pull Ben when we cross-country ski... Because he wants his fiancée {bless her heart} to pull him around the trails of this town, since an accident left him unable to ski. 

James, I'm not sure that any reasonable person would agree to haul your butt in a stroller, but my judgement could be persuaded with the right amount of homemade Italian food, of which I know you make plenty. Because I'm a good friend. 

Oh, and we did go xc skiing today, because fresh powder. Duh. 

                             

                             

                             


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