Birthday Weekend

My birthday is on Monday. Christmas Eve-Eve. Which I can tell you, sucks. It’s a terrible time to have a birthday. Everyone is busy, or traveling. It’s next to impossible to plan anything. Last year, my fiftieth, was great. Doug had a party across the road at the brewery, and a surprising number of friends were in town for it. 

Then, we went to California and I spent ten days catching up with old friends. I got together without almost everyone I wanted to. We simply ran out of time to see everyone. But what was really great was with each, I spent time one-on-one with them . . . really catching up. We talked, we reconnected, we got to tell each other how much we both mattered. Precious, priceless, magic memories.

This year is quieter. We don’t have any big plans, and that’s okay with me. Yesterday we skied at Copper Mountain, a first for me. Frank is the only one in our family who skied there before. It’s now a favorite. We all loved it. There was a point yesterday that the four of us were weaving back and forth on the same hill. All of us had great big smiles on our faces, and I think I even heard hooting and hollaring. I know I was doing it, and I don’t think I was the only one.

The powder had something to do with it, it was spectacular. Snow continued to fall all day, great big flakes, light as could be, with no wind. It was peaceful, and serene, and wonderful to ski in. Many of the trails we were on hadn't been skied on since the snow fell. Getting to be the first to swoosh through all that new snow was indescribable. And then, on the groomed trails, it’s always a treat to be the first to mess up those perfect ribs of corduroy. 

Copper Mountain was very quiet yesterday, so each time we skied down the hill, we were able to get back on the lift immediately. I lost track of the number of runs we made even before lunchtime.

Beck tired out early, so he and I skied the smaller hills while Frank and Doug went to the top of the mountain. By the end of the day, we all had rosy cheeks, sore muscles and joy in our hearts. We took lots of photos too, which we don't always remember to do. 

Doug is pretty good at making plans, so my guess is, he has more in store, we’ll see, but if that is all we do this weekend, I’ll be happy. The memories are perfect.