Forgive this blog, that seems to be functioning eight weeks in the past while we deal with real life in the present. Just didn’t want to miss these, a random account of our time spent down south.
Let's take, for example, a most unique Christmas from C. It was the first gift of our lives that elicited a look of horror on my face. I wish I had a picture, but M and KC assure me I conveyed my feelings adequately. He gave me three sessions for us to meet with a voice coach to learn a romantic duet. Susan, next door, is an opera singer who gives lessons. She told him the rules: no wine ahead of time. Strike one. Also no dairy, chocolate or peppermint. Who knew? And who could have predicted the torturous exercise of finding an appropriate song, which included a major argument in which the words Moon River will never be uttered, much less sung, in our house. Ever.
So we went, fortified by sheer bravery, raw nerves and a bottle of water. Susan told us, when working as a voice teacher at a music college in LA, she described herself as a dream quasher. So long story short we chose A Kenny Rogers and Sheryl Crow duet version of Let It Be Me. Three long sessions later I can say we accomplished something, even successfully, and the only thing quashed was perhaps C's idea of a romantic gift.
A highlight was a trip back to Painted Canyon for an alternative route of the ladder hikes. Along the way we accomplished an earth geocache, studying the area’s unusual and varied geography.
The official Earth Cache photo, proving we were there:
I learned what I had been missing by delaying my morning walks until 8:00 a.m. An early morning zoom class gave me an opportunity to appreciate dawn’s golden hour.
Finally I have an unreasonable amount of photos taken from flights at 35,000 feet. This view of Mt. St. Helen’s crater was exceptional.
And now we’re home, the house well taken care of during extraordinary cold and snow.