Alas, no snow

We came to Ruidoso so the kids and grandkids could ski, most of them at least. For years, our Alter Christmases (alternate years—I get them on Thanksgiving in off years) have been skiing vacations, usually Santa Fe. But we found a better house, we thought (another story) in Ruidoso and here we are, with no snow while the northern part of the country almost from coast to coast is buried in the stuff. Two bunny slopes are open but they scoff and say that is no fun.

Everybody except me has found other outdoor activities. My two sons geared up and went for a run Christmas Eve morning, though the altitude cramped their style a bit. A big bunch went for a walk later that day and were delighted to come upon a buck who did not run. Deer up here are apparently well fed from residents and tourists and aren’t people-shy.

The four boys (ages thirteen to ten) and one granddaughter have loved just exploring outdoors. Yesterday afternoon they hadn’t been gone long when they all came tumbling into the cabin, breathless and red in the face, panting to get their story out. Someone had chased them and they were sure he had evil intent. Jacob did suggest he might just have been out for a walk, and I said maybe they were accidentally trespassing. One announced with conviction that couldn’t be the case because this is all public land. And he knows that how?

Today they went to a zip line place some forty-five minutes away, left at eleven-thirty and still aren’t home at five. It was, they explained by text, an inefficient operation; the explanation left out the fact that it apparently had a bar.

Meanwhile I stayed home, wrote about seventeen hundred words, answered emails, started a new book, and had a good day and a nice nap. I haven’t been out of the cabin for three days, so I think tomorrow I’ll be ready, but we’ll see what outdoor activity they dream up for tomorrow.