When I was in Vietnam I longed to be cold. Now I am. Yesterday, for the first time since I moved to Vernon, I was so cold cross country skiing that after about an hour I decided it wasn't worth going on. Luckily I turned around when I did because by the time I got back to the lodge I was frozen. Mo and John carried on. John tried to convince me later that it had got better after I turned around, but when I saw that Mo's middle layer was white with frost I had trouble believing him. It was about -17c, which I would have thought was fine when I was in my prime, but I don't now. CBC has been having one of its Politically Correct debates lately about what term should be used to refer to people of a certain age. YUCK! I'll settle for past my prime or anything else for that matter. I'm certainly not middle aged. Life expectancy is greater than it was but even now nobody lives to 140.
At least it's sunny today and there's enough puffy snow resting on the dark branches of the trees to soften the view out the window. The birds must be balled up somewhere trying to escape the cold because they aren't flitting around the feeder as they usually do at this time of the afternoon. Walking to Tai Chi will be the extent of my outdoor activity for today.
It's no longer difficult to imagine that Christmas is nigh.
The eleves are making Christmas cookies
The parents are kicking back
Sweet Dreams
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