White Weekend*

With Trump’s inauguration week pending, casting a large and gloomy shadow in front of itself, I was so glad when our friends invited us up to their cabin in the mountains for MLKJR weekend.  Up there in the woods, surrounded by woodland creatures who had never heard of Trump or any other president, with the falling snow providing its surround sound of quietude, it felt like some things—some of the very best things, in fact—will not change come Friday at 12AM. 


As we drove up the mountain, first we came to some patches of frost, then a couple small piles of snow, then trees wearing the lightest coat of snow.  Our excitement grew and grew until we arrived at our friends’ cabin (more of a personal lodge, really), where there were two feet of snow and endless sledding paths.  We were in a different world, I wanted to live in the weekend forever.


On the drive home, my emotions went in reverse, and those same trees with the light coating of snow that made me excited on the way up now made me melancholy, marking the end rather than the beginning of our escape.  But not that melancholy, because I was sitting in the car with head and heart full of memories of cold and thrilling outdoor moments followed by warm and cozy indoor moments.


As I sit here blogging to the persistent rain outside, I know that somewhere not too far away, the same clouds that are dumping raining on our house are sprinkling snow on another.  The gray world outside my house is connected to a snowy white world conjured up from the best kind of magic.


Enough of all that, though.  Mostly the weekend was fun and funny and the opposite of whatever it is that’s happening in our country this week.  Like when Kevin wanted to get a picture of me and Rocco on a sled and I jokingly asked Rocco how my hair looked.  It went like this.

Me: How does my hair look?
Rocco: Gray.
Me: Seriously?  You’re seriously going to go there?  Okay then, Leo, how do you think my hair looks?
Leo: Good!
Me: That’s more like it!
Leo: Because you’re wearing a hat.



Clearly, these boys are not nearly as sweet as they look.

And now…moar pictures!!!



Some of those sled rides were wild and out of control, and the paths were riddled with trees, and it is actually a pretty good metaphor for how I feel about this week.  I’m sitting on a sled and I don’t have much control over it, and I just hope there’s a chance to bail before we hit that tree.


Am I being overly dramatic?

Omelet-wrapped poblano potato quesadillas
Cumin black beans
Fresh fruit/vegetables
Candy cane cheesecake

*Wow, I was just about to publish this when I realized how inappropriate that title is to describe a MLKJR weekend.  I should probably change that.  But then, it’s pretty appropriate for Trump’s inauguration, so maybe I should just leave it?

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