Jason and jenn

Author Anne Lammott says one of her favorite prayers is “Thank You Thank You Thank You”. Jenn and I love that so much that as we sat down to a wonderful Thanksgiving lunch at our local catholic church, we looked at each other, bowed our heads slightly and recited the six syllable prayer before grinning and digging in!

We miss family and friends right now. All our Pinedale friends were out of town and we were left wondering if Thanksgiving would be all that enjoyable this year. It was.

We started out by having a light breakfast and coffee and relaxing until the sun was up in force. Then we drove up to Elkhart park, made a few turns in the snow that lingers up there, trying out new skis for me and new boots for jenn.

Back in town for a lunch put on by the local churches (small town churches are wonderful at working together despite differences) it was a balmy 45 degrees with no wind. It felt like early October rather than late November.  Lunch was standard Thanksgiving fare, and very tasty. We resisted the urge for seconds, chatted with the folks we knew, and then went for a drive and hike in the Boulder lake area. We saw lots of deer and a solitary moose as we explored some rocks for possible climbing next spring and summer. The lake is starting to ice up, and the creek was mostly closed over as well.

We ended the day with dinner, more talking, making plans and just relaxing. Jenn worked on the finishing touches of a quilt project. I looked at pictures from our day.

We missed family a lot. We missed the comforts of friends, warm drinks and warmer conversation. But we had an incredible day. We didn’t ruminate on the bounty of blessings we have. We didn’t go overboard on food. We didn’t sit in front of a TV and watch football. We didn’t get patriotic about pilgrims and indians. We just said a simple prayer and lived in the moment.  I wish for the ability to do that every day.

Ski. Ski. Ski.

My mind is wrapped around it right now, maybe because the season is just around the corner. Maybe because I just bought some new skis at the ski swap in Jackson. Maybe it’s the snow in the forecast. I look forward to skiing this year more than the last two. Last year was the year I mostly learned to telemark. Jenn too. Now that we’re moving toward being able to successfully enjoy a ski run rather than just survive it, we’re a little more excited about the arrival of ski season.

And yet we don’t want it to arrive too soon. Last year I skied in June. That’s how long we have snow enough to slide around on. So there’s really no rush. December would be fine. Cold weather without snow means ice climbing and plenty of friction for rock climbing.

I am teaching a ski fitness class starting on Tuesday. That has me thinking about skiing too. Getting the quads and hamstrings and back nice and strong for the season. And being fit for backcountry tours, heading a few miles in toward a peak or bowl to climb up then ski down. I can’t wait to speed down the hill, drop into a turn, spray up some powder and blur the winter white palette of white and green and blue. I’ll probably also face plant, get snow up my sleeves and down my shirt and give myself a limp for a week or two. Whatever awaits, i’m ready. Snow is in the forecast. Probably not enough for skiing yet. But it’s coming. Let’s go.

Remind me in April, when i’m begging for summer, that I asked for this!

We are tilting.

I see it here more than i did in Kentucky or Utah. I see it in the way the animals are migrating. I see it in the way ice forms at the edges of mountain lakes and streams and gradually overtakes them. I see it in where we see the sunrise each morning; Early summer rising above Bonneville in the center of the range and now seeming to rise south of the mountains all together. Reading and sipping coffee on the couch on mid summer mornings is blinding with the shade not drawn. Now it is almost too dark to read.

We keep the heat set at the same temperature, but our heating bill grows. On the coldest days this winter, we might be asking our heating system to warm the house 90 degrees. And that’s with the thermostat set at 60.

And yet it’s all beautiful. There is now time to do things we neglected in the frenzy of summer in the mountains. People grow warmer and closer. We bundle up against the elements and seem to be less bundled up against one another.  The tourist town of Jackson is wonderful for a brief period in October and November. Coffee and tea are sipped often.  Dinners and conversation are more impassioned. The cold wind batters us and we feel alive.  We complain, but we aren’t depressed. The sun is more glorious for the few hours it shines.

We are tilting.