It was a gorgeous day of skiing. Obviously, several people took the day off to enjoy the rare sunshine at this time of year, but we still essentially had the slopes to ourselves. In comparison, Steamboat last month was cold and crowded, while the runs were sometimes too long for my aging legs. After all, I’m apparently only 9 years away from skiing free, and was able to get an all day Senior pass for $59, half the price of Colorado. The two-mile length of our run down the mountain today was enough to create a pleasant burn in my quads, not the unbearable, tired feeling of the longer, steeper, higher-altitude courses at Steamboat. It made me want to go back for more, as we made advance plans for next month.

This week’s Leadership Meeting will take place a day earlier and will involve the biggest day of college basketball all year long. Unfortunately, I really don’t have a horse in this year’s race, so it’s more sadness than Madness, for me. It’s appropriate that we’ll be out of the country, and so this will not be the focus of March. We’ll be crusin’ and boozin’ and my team won’t be losin’! Instead, my Indiana Hoosiers will be preparing for next year. Hopefully, Purdue, Butler, or even Notre Dame will represent my home state’s legendary reputation for basketball.

I’m learning to play “Stand By Me” on the ukulele, thanks to the help of a friend. My fingers get sore making the chord transitions, so it will take some practice time to build-up some calluses. The burn marks on my hands from cooking dinner last week have evolved into ugly, red scabs. My poor, multi-fingered appendages have taken a lot of abuse in retirement, so far. They were once rough & tough from shovel labor, shaking hands, and softball. Similarly, my poor feet are sore and my toe nails black from skiing, consequently I will need some luxury cruise pampering.

Our seventeen year-old cat, Frankie, has a urinary infection, so I will be back at the vet tomorrow. Pet.Vet. Debt. (See Post #351). Even our perfectly health schnauzer pup, Tally, needed eye drops for an infection last week. Pet expenses continue to mount, including the $1000 that we’ll need to pay a house/pet sitter while we’re away from home next week. We’ve begun to call Tally by the nickname, “Egbert,” since she loves to have a bite of our morning egg breakfast. Tinker, her older sister, is allergic to egg, so we have to be deceptive in the delivery. Tinker knows! Both dogs go to the groomer tomorrow to “get the stink off.” They accompanied us to wine country yesterday, glad to spend the day out of the house.

With all these pet duties tomorrow, I will have little time for writing. I need to start packing for our 15-day trip, and want to read The Diary of a Young Girl before our visit to the Anne Frank house in Amsterdam. My wife had nightmares from reading it, so it’s been tough for her to digest. I’m bored with my current book, All-American Murder, by James Patterson. It’s not one of his better works, but non-fiction rather than his imaginative specialty. I was also disappointed with the movie, Wrinkle in Time, from a childhood book that was my wife’s favorite. It was really not about time travel as I originally posted. (See #455). It had too much of Oprah’s ego invested, however some movie-goers actually clapped.

I’ve been really good about limiting my use of straws. My friend has a blog, www.offthecoast.net. He is certified as a Master Recycler, and involved with organizations like www.portland.surfrider.org. I now always carry with me in my car a zip-lock bag so I can reuse the straw I get at regular McDonald’s visits for a Diet Coke. It’s a small gesture on my part to support his efforts to protect our environment and reinforce an anti-straw campaign by my former employer KINK Radio.  I have become sooooooo… Portland!