Anybody out there have tips on how to convince your husband to go to an opera?
This past weekend, Mike and I went for an adventure and ended up in Breckenridge, Colo.
Saturday night we splurged and had martinis and walnut-covered brie and lobster tail and elk steak.
And then we slept in the back of Mike’s car. (That was the part where we didn’t splurge.)
So the other day, in response to the weatherman’s (pathetic) attempt at snowfall prediction, Mike, another friend, and I headed up to Rocky Mountain National Park to do a bit of backcountry skiing.
The park had easily gotten two feet of fresh snow. Perfect skiing conditions!
Unfortunately, none of the roads had been plowed for us to get to any skiing.
After skinning along a road for three hours for a measly 50 feet of vertical drop, Mike officially declared the ski adventure the worst powder day ever!
Mike was ticked at NPR the other morning because of the lack of information they offered regarding our projected snowfall.
We heard the announcer say, “A wide variety of snowfall totals possible today along the Front Range.”
“Come on!” Mike said. “Couldn’t they give us some more details? How about, ‘We’re expecting a mean of six inches.’ Or ‘We’re looking at a standard deviation of 10 inches.’ That would be a lot more helpful!”
Yep he’s pretty smart. Nerdy of course, but very smart.
Some stupid little kid has been whistling over in that corner of the coffee shop for the past two minutes.
It’s super annoying … And I’m not just saying that because I’m jealous that he can whistle and I can’t.
I just found out from the seven-year-old sitting behind me at the airport than in a rousing adaptation of “Rock, Paper, Scissors,” “spider” beats “acid.”
However, “tornado” beats “spider.”