The mountains are calling.

And I shall be there to answer very very soon.  Break out the adult onesie, wool socks, and snow boots.  It’s been almost a full year since I’ve seen the fluffy white stuff, which is utterly too long.  I’m sure those of you in the Northeast are shaking your heads at me right now, but this is Texas y’all.  The pellets of hail that we were showered with last week can hardly count as a snowfall.

I’m looking forward to seeing my breath against cold, clean, crisp air, painful as it may be to breathe sometimes.  I’m even excited about the dreaded scratching and scraping sound as you try to carve your way down an icy, frozen hill.  Getting on and off the ski lift will always be nerve wracking the first time of the season.  Do I remember how to push myself off at the end so I won’t end up riding the lift down again?  That first run (last year it was a mogul field) is a test of muscle memory and warming up my wobbly ski legs.

I’m loading up my backpack with bandages, snacks, and water.  Well, maybe just gummy snacks.  Iris and Misha will be practicing their floating leafs on the bunny slopes, and I’ll be making friends out on the catwalk as I’m sure to fall and lose a pole or glove.

Oh and then the hot chocolate and Baileys.  Or coffee with Irish whiskey.  Or tea and whiskey.  The combinations you can drink in order to keep warm are endless.  I'll be sure to try all of them, to stay warm of course.

I’m almost there.  Just a little bit longer.