Walking the dog

I've been waking up really early each morning and going to Gold's, but this morning the temperature was actually bearable and I decided to go for a walk with Belle. Belle is Kevin's cougar/bear hunting dog and isn't really accustomed to going for "walks." She keeps a brisk pace with her nose to the ground, until she smells something of interest. Then I end up trying to drag her down the side walk, while keeping my arm in its socket. The worst is when she sees or smells a cat; it takes all of my strength to hold on to her.

I have to throw a predicament out there though. I know that it is proper etiquette to pick up your dog's poop, but Belle is huge and as you may expect....so is her poop. It's so embarrassing to be standing on the side of the road watching your dog make a mess in someone's yard. And then you're left wondering..."do I get a stick and try to push it into the bushes? do I walk away? do I come back with a shovel?" The little poop bags people use would never work for Belle. I'd be lugging 10 lbs of the worst smelling stuff in the world around. I'm just not willing to do it. Belle may not get invited on anymore of my walks around the neighborhood.

(Belle is the one on the right)

The aftermath

I didn’t mention in my previous post about the aftermath of that beautiful sunny day up at Snowbird. I often feel as though my skin craves the sun (which is why I occasionally find myself in a tanning bed- bad I know.). When the sun was shining last Saturday, I couldn’t resist. I spent the day skiing in a t-shirt, gloves and beanie. I was in heaven. It wasn’t until I got home that I realized my mistake…..................................




I had been smart enough to put sunscreen on my face and part of my neck, but not smart enough to realize I needed it on the rest of me. I was fried! Poor Whitney and Tyese didn’t have sunscreen on their faces and they got fried as well. I think Tyese even had blisters on her face the next day. Lesson learned.

To ski or not to ski? That's still the question.

I did it…finally. I tried to ski for the first time. My cousin Whitney and her friend Tyese, wanted to learn how to snowboard, so it was the perfect opportunity for me to try on Whitney’s skis and give it a go. The weather up at Snowbird was gorgeous and the snow was still great. I jumped on the lift and headed up the mountain. Getting off the lift was surprisingly scarier than I thought. Skiing “looked so easy” but I was quickly learning my lesson. My first 15 minutes on those da-gum things were horrible. I looked like Goofy and ended up stuck in some powder and then in a tree right off the bat. “Why? I thought…why am I doing this to myself?”
I picked up my left turn right off of the bat, but the right turn was so awkward for me. I hated the snow plow/pizza move everyone told me to try. It doesn’t work at all. My first run consisted of me skiing sideways to my right, making a turn to my left, skiing sideways to my left and then laying down, flipping my skis around and skiing back to my right. I was scared of my right turn and did the whole lay down and flip my skis around routine to avoid it.
My second and third runs were much better and I was able to make it the whole way down, turning both ways. It was fun to “figure it out” but I’m not sure when I’ll reach for the skis over my board again.