The Grinch Is Dead

Big E and I did our best to bake, gift and play enough to out-Grinch any Grinches near us this season. We made 16 pounds of Christmas Crack (aka Almond Roca), 3 liters of fruit-infused brandy, 4 dozen Buckeyes, 3 kinds of cookies, a massive amount of Christmas Necco and a batch of tamales.

Doing our part to make sure our loved ones have no excuse to be hungry or sober this Christmas.

Of course, all this Christmasing did take a toll on our kitchen. All flat surfaces are covered in treats, the floor and cupboards are tinted a bit green from my food coloring explosion and everything is still sticky. Oh well, all the holiday cheer was worth what could be weeks of deep cleaning.

 Just in case any Grinches were still in our vicinity (and to work off a few of those treats) we proved our determination to stay cheerful by heading out on a Christmas Eve adventure despite the sub-zero temps.

I discovered the added warmth provided by the ski helmet and goggles.

Apparently both of our families shared in our determination to slash Grinchiness this year, because between us we ended up with eight Christmas stockings. Santa even put five of them on the end of the bed, in following with Thompson family tradition. (I was sure I spied him doing this naked, but Big E says I was seeing things.)

 Big E even got a pink spatula in his stocking from my family. I've assured him this means he's now one of us. However, I had no explanation for the rubber chicken he received from Pop. He'll have to figure that one out on his own.

 In the end, we were pretty sure we took care of all Grinchiness in our vicinity, but it turned out we really had nothing to worry about. Our favorite deputy made sure of that.

Merry Christmas! (Even to any Grinchy people left out there!)

Why I'm Not a Ballerina

My favorite season is definitely back. I wanted snow. I got snow- every version possible over the course of last week. First is was the light fluffy stuff. I immediately went running in it because there wasn't enough yet to bike and I just had to make some tracks.

The light, fluffy stuff turned wet that night and the next's days run was through slippery slush. For every step uphill I slid half a step back.

By day three we had a decent covering on the ground. I ventured out on the singletrack and discovered we had just enough snow make any large sticks or branches on the trail impossible to see until they caught my toe and sent me tripping forward.

This is why I'm a runner and not a ballerina.

At some point on day three there was a little snow/rain mix and then the temperature dropped. As in sub-zero dropped. By day four I was running on slippery snow-packed sidewalks in a -10 degree windchill. I was kinda wondering if this winter stuff was really as fun as I remembered.

I finally had to add a second hat to this look to avoid "brainfreeze"

On day five, while crossing the street, I did a lovely "I'm trying to not to fall on the ice" dance in front of four cars before finally losing the battle and ending up on all fours.

Again, this is why I'm not a ballerina.

On day six I finally realized I would much rather be skiing or riding my bike in the snow.  Duh. Skiing on a lit trail is so much easier than trying to run on ice in the dark!