Tuesday, January 31, 2006

I'm horrified that it's been two weeks since I last posted. The silence is due to the fact that the blogger has been overwhelmed by the perpetual life crisis of too much to do. The other hindrance is that wherever I am, I start dozing off at about nine o'clock. I'm perplexed by this particularly because before we moved here I rarely turned the light out before 10:30 or 11pm.

It's snowing hard now, as it should be. I only hope it's snowing on the mountain where I was skiing earlier in a drizzle--spitting rain situation. The fog was so thick that on my last run the only terrain I could see was what was within five feet of me. Time to call it quits all right, though I was loathe to leave because it was also my best run of the day--every motion, every turn went beautifully.

The persistently warm winter weather has disappointed us deeply, and that includes Sophie. I came to the Adirondacks to get rid of this "Boston weather."

Sunday afternoon and evening an unpredicted five inches of heavy, wet snow fell, catching everyone by surprise. I was working and had the Toyota minivan with me. I called Ken who assured me the town had plowed our road, but I was nervous. The snow was falling so thickly and so fast that I feared a mere plow-through would not be enough to get me up our mountain road. Just as it was getting dark, I turned onto our road, and gave Hector (we name all our cars) the gas. I got up one steep rise, but the second stopped us. Nothing was going to get Hector up that road. So I decided I'd back my way down to a driveway, park it, and walk home. But it was dark and there are no streetlights. Add to that the insult of tinted glass obscuring visibility, and naturally I ended up with one wheel mired in a snowbank. I put on the flashers and hiked up, up, up, up, and even though Ken laughs when I say this, it was the longest climb of my life. The snow was swirling all around me--in my mouth, my eyes, my nose. I had no hiking boots, so my wornout L.L. Bean pull-ons did not provide traction. I arrived home in a snarling mood. All I could think of was how many conversations we'd had where I tried to convince Ken that the minivan would never deal with the snow and, in spring, the mud of our road.

For all concerned, I suppose it was fortunate that he was in a good mood and felt sorry for me, so my rage was soon doused to irritation and annoyance. I made him promise to drive me to work in the pickup the next day. With the help of Scott, the snowplow driver whom we met while he was trying to figure out how to get Hector out of the way, the saga comes to a close, but not before the excitement of having the minivan hauled out by a plow that makes Massachusetts snowplows look like Tonka toys.

I didn't mean to wax on so long about this little drama. After all, it was only five inches of snow (though it did come down in all of two hours). It seems that at this point we'll be sharing the Tundra pickup until the road freezes solid again, and during all inclement weather.

The wisest thing would be to trade the minivan in for another 4-wheel drive vehicle, but, our house in Canton hasn't sold yet, and a big purchase is just not in the cards.

Tuesday, January 17, 2006

Am I too tired to post an entry? That's what I've been debating with myself these past five minutes. After walking Sophie a few miles this morning, I realized I had better go skiing today before the freezing rain and sleet mess up the conditions. And I'm so glad I went. For much of the day the sky was blue and the visiblity excellent. From Saddle Lodge, I was able to see clearly to the north and west, including stellar views of Mt. Marcy, the highest peak in New York, and nearly a dozen other mountains over 4,000 feet. The views all the way down took my breath away; that is, when I stopped by the side of the trail to look. A few times I found myself gawking while skiing, and realized I'm not that good, not yet. I still need to keep my eyes planted on my skis to make sure the tips don't cross when I'm turning.

I'm so mad the weather keeps betraying winter sports enthusiasts. Tomorrow morning it's supposed to rain. How dull. I might have to stay home and vacuum the house. Herbie the skiing weatherman keeps promising a return of polar air by the end of the month. I want more than that, though; just give me two feet of powder, and I promise I'll stop complaining.

Saturday, January 14, 2006

Friday the 13th turned out to be a lucky day for us. By sheer good fortune, we managed to register and get New York plates for both vehicles, all with a minimum of fuss due to the savvy and kindness of the woman who helped us at the Department of Motor Vehicles. By being incredibly observant and willing to go beyond the call of duty, she recognized several quick steps we could take that would save us time, energy, and money. We were so happy, we nearly danced our way to Starbucks. We sat down with celebratory java before making our way to the Social Security Office in Queensbury to submit our applications for replacements for our long lost s.s. cards, a prerequisite to getting our New York driver's licenses. That, too, went without a hiccup.

We then drove to Price Chopper and my heart sunk when I saw the enormous parking lot jammed with cars. I told Ken I would buy produce, he could pick up the half-dozen other things on the list, and we'd be out of there. I still can't face doing a big shop there after our last visit. But, the good news is, the time I was in the store yesterday was not horrific. Perhaps that's progress. Our groceries were checked out by the indifferent cashier, and we were on our way to Casey's North in North Creek for a lunch-dinner kind of meal. Sensational burgers! We talked and relaxed and then coached home to greet Sophie and walk Sophie.

Today--Saturday--Rain, ugh! Spent the morning making bread for the first time with my new Kitchen Aid mixer, a honey whole wheat. I also put together a pot roast for the crock pot, and did lots of laundry. The rain is changing to sleet, and we're supposed to get four to seven inches of snow, which will be heavenly if it's true. Yes, I'll be jubilant. But I can't hit the slopes tomorrow or Monday--two days of work ahead of me. And given the holiday weekend, I'll be out straight both days. But Tuesday morning? I hope.

Thursday, January 12, 2006

I skied Gore all morning today, and it was a peak experience. I met my friend at 8:30, we gabbed for a half hour over coffee, and then she ushered me to 3000 feet. The triple chair does not go to the summit of Gore; in fact, no lift does that. One must ski over to another lift to get to that rarified atmosphere. But we were way up there in the clouds where it was foggy and a bit chilly. She suggested we take it easy--She led the way and I followed, and miracle of miracles, everything fell into place. I leaned forward into my boots, my weight stayed on the downhill ski, I turned easily (though somewhat clumsily at times). But as we skiied all the way down, skiing became easier and easier. I couldn't believe it--I was having fun! After that torture-filled first lesson, part of me wondered if I ever wanted to put on skis again.

On our return to the heights, the sun was poking through the clouds, making the sky an artist's palette of blues, turquoises, violets, and grays. I was mesmerized. And with the fog dissipating, I could see the shadowy forms of dozens and dozens of mountains in the distance. Frankly, the visibility was not great, but I had the clearest sense of what the view might be like on a clearer, less hazy day.

We stopped at the Saddle Lodge near the top, took our skis off, and waddled inside. (Those boots!) The space inside is gorgeous! A roaring fire in a Barton garnetstone fireplace, all mined just a few miles away. The view--incroyable! My friend and I sat by the fire and sipped some tea before heading down the mountain again. I was in heaven.

My friend had to be off to work (it was now 11:30), but I went up again for another run. At the end, I felt exhilarated and confident--and impatient for some snow to fall. What is with this thaw? And tomorrow I hear Adirondack temperatures will be near 50 degrees. Unheard of!

Tomorrow I've got to go to the New York Department of Motor Vehicles in Lake George--oh boy. I suppose this means I'll feel I have to shop at Price Chopper. Please, anything but that!

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

I'm disappointed I don't have enough time for anything but a brief post. I don't know where the time goes these days. I know how the morning goes, though. Sophie and I spent it hiking. With the warm temperatures, I was out in my light fleece jacket. I do wish it were colder so it wouldn't be so muddy. I don't mind for myself, but Sophie comes home a mess.

We finally hiked the full length of the mountain road that runs parallel to our road. It lies on the other side of a huge ridge to the west of us. The interior part of this road isn't plowed during the winter. There are no houses, just woods and mountain views. And it's very still. We startled a great horned owl that was sleeping near the top of a spruce tree. He flew off toward the ridge.

I love this walk because when we're on this road, I feel as though Sophie and I are the only beings in the world. It's almost as if the world has stopped. I can think and feel at peace. Of course we're not alone. Farther up the road is a farm with horses. Sophie knows that...she loves to nibble on the manure they've left behind, deep beneath the snow.

Two hours later, we were home again, and it was time for me to do my North Creek errands. I found some fascinating books from the library. One is a biography of Georgia O'Keefe that just came out this past fall, I believe. Title to follow. At least I had a quiet half hour to read in front of the gas fire before I had to go pack my gear for an early skiing expedition tomorrow morning. I'm meeting a friend at the mountain at half past eight. That means I better get there at least a half hour earlier to get myself into those damn boots! This friend is a top-notch skier, so I'm a little nervous. I have fully informed her of my own status on the slopes, and since she has spent years as a ski instructor, she's going to give me a few tips. Too bad it has to rain tonight of all nights, but there it is. What is with this weather? More to come tomorrow. I hope.

Sunday, January 08, 2006

Just got back from work. Sunday is an incredibly busy day on the mountain, and it seems that hundreds of people are still lining up for their season passes and discount cards. The queues make me nervous, mostly because the skiers looks so miserable waiting, languishing in line when they are itching to be skiing. I hate to keep them, but what else can I do? The computer will only go so fast, and no faster. And I am still a slow operator. I'm so wiped out at the end of the day. Tomorrow should be much slower; I hope that there will be enough traffic so that I can get some of these procedures locked tight in my brain.

Yesterday brought an unexpected surprise. Our neighbors at "Sanity Hill" stopped by in the afternoon to invite us over for a glass of wine. As the light faded yesterday, we had a lovely tour of their home, which has a knock-your-socks-off view of Eleventh Mountain. They have two beautiful rooms in which to sit and relax and soak in the vista.

I was so enheartened to find that Dotti has spent most of her life living in Westwood, the town next to Canton, our Massachusetts home base. I couldn't believe it. And Pete was originally from Foxboro. Dotti mentioned that people are forever kidding her about her Boston accent. Funny, I didn't even notice she had one--all because I've got one, too! Dotti and Pete plan to live up here full-time as soon as Pete retires at the end of 2006; for now they come up weekends.

Saturday, January 07, 2006

It's just a few degrees below zero this morning, and I'm waiting for the sun to warm the air a bit before heading out with Sophie. Yesterday we only walked a couple of miles because an exhaustion thing has made me slow way down. After being hit over the head with fatigue, I finally realized I need time to rest and relax before I tackle any new adventures. So yesterday I spent lots of time reading, and I hope to do the same today. After all, I'll be swarmed by anxious skiiers early tomorrow morning.

I finished The History of Love by Nicole Krauss, a book that made nearly every book critic's Ten Best of 2005 list. The cover boasts that the novel is noted for its originality, and I'll give it that. I can also say it's compelling reading from start to finish, but for someone just coming off a three-month moving gig, it was incredibly confusing. My brain struggled to make the pieces fit, and they don't, and I don't think they're supposed to, until the conclusion. The characters moved me, and each had powerful things to say about life that made the book worth the challenge, but somehow the whole novel did not ever truly come together.

A heap of Adirondack-related books sits on the coffee table in the living room. I'm now reading the back-to-nature classic of the early 1970s, Woodswoman:Young Ecologist Meets the Challenge of Living Alone in the Adirondack Wilderness by Anne LaBastille. I tried to read it this fall, but to tell the truth, I was not able to read a single book from the time of our Minerva vacation in September until now. Until my next post, all I'll say is I'm loving it so much, I read every page at least twice before proceeding to the next.

Wednesday, January 04, 2006

After watching skiers rush out of the marketing department to hit the slopes all day Sunday and Monday, I've been waiting for my time to get out there. Yesterday I got familiar with all my ski gear and paraphenalia, bought a ski lock, and practiced taking my new boots and skis on and off. Today Sophie and I hiked only two miles early in the morning, because I was hoping to make it to the mountain to get a morning ski lesson. I figured since I haven't been downhill skiing in 26 years, a private lesson would help me get my sea legs back.

By the time I got to the mountain, it was sunny, and I was hot in my ski clothes--temps were about 35 degrees. I baked, although baking gives the impression of dry heat. My experience was considerably steamier. The 10:30 lessons were overbooked, so I was only able to get a lesson at noon. In the meantime, I struggled into my boots. The equipment, especially the boots, are challenging. It's the whole "inner boot" construction that makes it so difficult. I felt better when I saw a crew of young college students huffing and puffing while pulling on their boots.

Every step of the entire morning was new to me. Carrying skis, lugging boots--they weigh an absolute ton nowadays--, figuring out how my lock works, walking. Walking! It's nearly impossible in this footgear, but I knew I had to get from the lodge to the ski lesson waiting area, and I just prayed and hoped gumption and momentum would get me there.

Fortunately I had a patient instructor. He was kind and supportive, though he was also a strict taskmaster. I progressed from the kiddie slope to the mountain in about ten minutes, but each minute presented some new challenge to conquer. I was mentally and physically exhausted after an hour, and decided it would be best to return to practice what I learned tomorrow or Friday instead of going up for another run.

After eating a very late lunch at home, I collapsed on the couch to watch a PBS documentary--Icons of Twentieth Century Art. Viewing art is restful, yet exciting at the same time.

All in all, I feel great to have the first time out behind me. It can only get easier from here. Yet another adventure under my belt. The view? The scenic vistas from up the mountain? I didn't see a single thing except my feet and skis and the instructor. The full mountaintop experience will have to wait for me.

Sunday, January 01, 2006

My first day on the job, as a staff person in the Marketing Department at the mountain, went well, I think, though I have alot more information to get square in my head. I'm dealing with the public (lots of public!) and field all kinds of questions and help people with problems, including those that focus on my special area--tickets, ski passes, gift certificates, and anything that is connected with customers' access to the mountain. Everyone I worked with was helpful and friendly, so everything is off to a good start.

There is one problem I now face. I've been given a special vest to wear while on duty, but the Marketing Department is extremely warm. The vest is the kind that's suitable for outdoor wear in the spring and fall, and I'm supposed to wear it over a shirt. Granted, I can wear a short-sleeved shirt, but regardless, I can tell I'm going to be having a hot flash every other minute in this thing. I don't have any short-sleeved shirts all ready to go except t-shirts, and I think that looks too casual. So I've got to go on an archeological dig through my wardrobe to find the right shirt. Not tonight, though. I just want to make dinner, watch tv or read, and hit the sack early so I can get up at 5:15 tomorrow. Then I get my 5 days off. Not bad, eh? Actually, I'm hoping to get back to what's supposed to be my real job--writing.

New Year's Eve Ken and I shared a little bottle of Korbel Brut (the beverage served at our wedding nearly 20 years ago). We toasted each other again and again, all in the spirit of building happy lives here. Then we watched the next to last episode of the Sopranos Season 5. I'm so disappointed that they killed off Adrianna, but what an episode, incredibly crafted. Just one more show and we'll be waiting for Season 6 to start in March.

Maybe tomorrow morning early early I can blog about our hiking expedition on Saturday.