I don't know... I think they're all "juuust right"!
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
Sunday, February 19, 2006
Fun Visit from The GrandPrinces
Today we knew that not only were Gramma & Grampa Prince coming for a visit, but they were bringing Great-Grammy Kitty! Mom dressed me in the softest fuzzy pants and sweater. Hopefully I'm cute enough for their visit. These pants came in special from our good friends in Washington, (click to check out their blog!) and my Great-Auntie Norma Jane made this wonderful sweater all the way out in Montana.
This is genuine Western American fuziness.
First, Grammy got to hold me.
After that, it was Great-Grammy's turn.
Of course Grammy couldn't let Great-Grammy have all the fun!
Grampa Prince showed off his special talent as I flew around the room.
Finally, I got so overwhelmed by the love and warmth that I just took a snooze on Great Gram. What a wonderful day!
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
...Almost Like YOU'RE Holding Her
This weekend we put the fourth side up on Evvie's Co-Sleeper and moved it to the foot of the bed. It had been a sort of extension of the bed beside Hallie, but she's 3 months old now (Evvie, that is) and we're beginning to transition her away from us at night. It's a little more difficult when she wakes up and wants to feed in the wee hours, but it's for the best.At 6 months we're going to move the whole crib to her own room.
Now that will be difficult.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Monday, February 13, 2006
Snow's a Comin'
Evvie was very interested in the swirling snow we got this past weekend. We had a nice quiet weekend indoors as a family with no distractions, no football, and the smell of turkey in the oven.
Friday, February 10, 2006
A Few New Things
Evvie has learned to do a few new things this week. Grandma Prince taught her about blowing raspberries with her lips- lots of saliva bubbles are involved. She also has begun to pick things up with her hands. This picture was taken after she grabbed the rattle on her chest and began waving it around. She gave it a good stare-down, and then proceeded to shove it into her mouth. It's just the first in a long line of objects to ge there, I'm sure.
After a nice bath, Evvie couldn't wait for her bed and fell asleep hard in momma's arms. I couldn't resist the moment with a snapshot.Of course she only falls asleep at convenient times, and always at bedtime.
Of course.
Is there a font that conveys sarcasm?
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Winter Trip to Baxter
On Thursday, February 2, the Second Annual Winter Expedition to Baxter State Park began! The weather forecast called for 32 degrees and precipitation...would it be snow, or rain (sorry Blair, but I said rain). A tenuous but hopeful adventure was underway.
We drove to the Abol Bridge parking area on Thursday night, and got cozy in Blair's VW Vanagon with a few beers and prayers for snow. Early on Friday, we awoke to light snowfall, so we loaded up our sleds and headed out! Our route would follow the Appalachian Trail to Daicy Pond, then branch off the last 1.5 miles to Kidney Pond.
Several miles into the trip, and after several precarious stream crossings over single-log bridges (steady...steady) the trail took a steep turn away from the riverbank and up an icy slope. Those of us dragging sleds (all but Joe) began to wonder if this was the right mode of transport for this trail.
After an exhausting struggle, the trail paralleled an old road that seemed much more open and skiable. After the trouble we'd had on the trail up to this point, the prospect of the trail heading away from the relative level ground of the river into the hills seemed daunting. A group decision was made to abort the Appalachian Trail idea and backtrack to the Foss Knowlton ski trail on this newly discovered jeep road.
At this point, the snow began again and was very waterlogged. Our skis were sticking badly and group members kept vacillating between walking with skis or walking with boots. It was a long backtrack and this member's spirits were beginning to fade at the idea of losing so much ground and time, with poor traveling conditions.
Eventually, though, we reached the Foss Knowlton Trail and I was lifted by the prospect of again knowing exactly where we were on the map, plus the skiing was possible if you focused on keeping the skis moving. Any stopping and it was sticky stepping until the skis again were scraped. That was me. Jeddie and Jon were not having as much luck and were walking on their skis, lifting an extra couple of pounds of snow with every step. The going was a steady climb, and it was difficult.
Finally we reached the downhill slope to Lost Pond. My skis were sticking so badly that I rode my sled partway down the hill. We checked the map, checked our time, and had a brief chilly lunch under some canoes that were stacked away for the winter. Knowing the distance yet to be traveled, it was a fairly somber moment as we all braced up for the long distance we still had to go.
After Foss Knowlton was a tough climb through the woods where several sleds began having problems overturning. It was especially difficult traveling behind and righting the overturned sleds because it blew your rhythm, and was a lot of effort to lift them back up. Frustration was building despite our enjoyment of the wild backwoods. As we reached Lost Pond, it began to snow heavy and wet. All the sleds worked great on the level terrain and we made good time crossing. By now it was mid afternoon and the overcast light was beginning to wane. I began to hope we'd make it to the cabin by dark.
Left to right is me, Jon, Ian, then Blair in the lead.
It was a difficult next few miles. In the frustration of righting other peoples' sleds, I decide to break trail and broke ahead of the group. I pushed quickly over the next mile as the falling snow turned into rain. I was finally stopped by a stream crossing that was open water thanks to the recent warm weather. I blazed a difficult trail around it and waited for the rest of the group to catch up so I could help the sleds through.
After a brief snack break, the chill kept us moving and we were upon Daicy Pond within 10 minutes. I was thrilled to be crossing Daicy Pond because I knew how Kidney Pond was only another 1.7 miles past the other side. By this time the rain was really coming down hard and we were soaked. We had to stop on the far side to get our bearings to where the trail to Kidney Pond started. As we started up the trail, we were faced with another obstacle. The trail was closed because a large bridge over the stream was closed. After checking his watch, Jeddie checked the bridge and made it across. We threw caution to the wind and decided the risk of the bridge was smaller than the risk of losing our way in the dark. It was now around 4pm and we had very little light left to work with. The crossing was difficult, as either side of the bridge was constructed of very steep log ramps. The ice on them was slick with rain, and our exhausted bodies fought to cross.
But we're homefree, right? Just 1.7 miles to Kidney Pond. We hit the woods and again made bad time having to stop every minute to get a sled upright again. The slog was exhausting and the rain was drizzling pointlessly into our already soaked clothes. The trail had many rocks and small boulders to navigate, and finally we skipped the trail circumventing the pond and cut straight across. By now the light was pretty much gone, as was my energy. Luckily, hope lay in sight just a half mile across the pond.
At last we arrived and started building the fire and getting into some dry clothes. After fighting with some pretty big unseasoned wood, we finally started throwing some heat into the bunkhouse, and the world seemed a whole lot better once we were in dry clothes with a cup of cocoa in hand. Jon's ginger cookies helped push us from "great satisfaction" into "heaven".
After an enormous helping of pasta and veggies, (washed down by spiked hot cocoa) our tired bodies crashed and we slept late into the Saturday morning.
A brief excursion across the pond by Jed, Ian, Blair and Jon led to the discovery of a hidden walk-in cabin and the construction of a punk snowman.
Joe and I stayed behind to dry our boots and wax everybody's skis in hopes of better glide for the trek out. We enjoyed the day from the porch and window of the cabin- although we did make it out to the middle of Kidney Pond for the great views of Doubletop and Squaw's Bosom to the west, and OJI, Barren Mountain, and Katahdin to the north before it grew dark again.
We drove to the Abol Bridge parking area on Thursday night, and got cozy in Blair's VW Vanagon with a few beers and prayers for snow. Early on Friday, we awoke to light snowfall, so we loaded up our sleds and headed out! Our route would follow the Appalachian Trail to Daicy Pond, then branch off the last 1.5 miles to Kidney Pond.
Several miles into the trip, and after several precarious stream crossings over single-log bridges (steady...steady) the trail took a steep turn away from the riverbank and up an icy slope. Those of us dragging sleds (all but Joe) began to wonder if this was the right mode of transport for this trail.
After an exhausting struggle, the trail paralleled an old road that seemed much more open and skiable. After the trouble we'd had on the trail up to this point, the prospect of the trail heading away from the relative level ground of the river into the hills seemed daunting. A group decision was made to abort the Appalachian Trail idea and backtrack to the Foss Knowlton ski trail on this newly discovered jeep road.
At this point, the snow began again and was very waterlogged. Our skis were sticking badly and group members kept vacillating between walking with skis or walking with boots. It was a long backtrack and this member's spirits were beginning to fade at the idea of losing so much ground and time, with poor traveling conditions.
Eventually, though, we reached the Foss Knowlton Trail and I was lifted by the prospect of again knowing exactly where we were on the map, plus the skiing was possible if you focused on keeping the skis moving. Any stopping and it was sticky stepping until the skis again were scraped. That was me. Jeddie and Jon were not having as much luck and were walking on their skis, lifting an extra couple of pounds of snow with every step. The going was a steady climb, and it was difficult.
Finally we reached the downhill slope to Lost Pond. My skis were sticking so badly that I rode my sled partway down the hill. We checked the map, checked our time, and had a brief chilly lunch under some canoes that were stacked away for the winter. Knowing the distance yet to be traveled, it was a fairly somber moment as we all braced up for the long distance we still had to go.
After Foss Knowlton was a tough climb through the woods where several sleds began having problems overturning. It was especially difficult traveling behind and righting the overturned sleds because it blew your rhythm, and was a lot of effort to lift them back up. Frustration was building despite our enjoyment of the wild backwoods. As we reached Lost Pond, it began to snow heavy and wet. All the sleds worked great on the level terrain and we made good time crossing. By now it was mid afternoon and the overcast light was beginning to wane. I began to hope we'd make it to the cabin by dark.
Left to right is me, Jon, Ian, then Blair in the lead.
It was a difficult next few miles. In the frustration of righting other peoples' sleds, I decide to break trail and broke ahead of the group. I pushed quickly over the next mile as the falling snow turned into rain. I was finally stopped by a stream crossing that was open water thanks to the recent warm weather. I blazed a difficult trail around it and waited for the rest of the group to catch up so I could help the sleds through.
After a brief snack break, the chill kept us moving and we were upon Daicy Pond within 10 minutes. I was thrilled to be crossing Daicy Pond because I knew how Kidney Pond was only another 1.7 miles past the other side. By this time the rain was really coming down hard and we were soaked. We had to stop on the far side to get our bearings to where the trail to Kidney Pond started. As we started up the trail, we were faced with another obstacle. The trail was closed because a large bridge over the stream was closed. After checking his watch, Jeddie checked the bridge and made it across. We threw caution to the wind and decided the risk of the bridge was smaller than the risk of losing our way in the dark. It was now around 4pm and we had very little light left to work with. The crossing was difficult, as either side of the bridge was constructed of very steep log ramps. The ice on them was slick with rain, and our exhausted bodies fought to cross.
But we're homefree, right? Just 1.7 miles to Kidney Pond. We hit the woods and again made bad time having to stop every minute to get a sled upright again. The slog was exhausting and the rain was drizzling pointlessly into our already soaked clothes. The trail had many rocks and small boulders to navigate, and finally we skipped the trail circumventing the pond and cut straight across. By now the light was pretty much gone, as was my energy. Luckily, hope lay in sight just a half mile across the pond.
At last we arrived and started building the fire and getting into some dry clothes. After fighting with some pretty big unseasoned wood, we finally started throwing some heat into the bunkhouse, and the world seemed a whole lot better once we were in dry clothes with a cup of cocoa in hand. Jon's ginger cookies helped push us from "great satisfaction" into "heaven".
After an enormous helping of pasta and veggies, (washed down by spiked hot cocoa) our tired bodies crashed and we slept late into the Saturday morning.
A brief excursion across the pond by Jed, Ian, Blair and Jon led to the discovery of a hidden walk-in cabin and the construction of a punk snowman.
Joe and I stayed behind to dry our boots and wax everybody's skis in hopes of better glide for the trek out. We enjoyed the day from the porch and window of the cabin- although we did make it out to the middle of Kidney Pond for the great views of Doubletop and Squaw's Bosom to the west, and OJI, Barren Mountain, and Katahdin to the north before it grew dark again.
As we prepared dinner I tuned in the weather radio to see what the skiing would be like for the trek out. I couldn't help but laugh and laugh and laugh. The forecast called for a 100% chance of rain. Not 50%. Not 75%. 100%. Looks like those boots wouldn't stay dry for long. The storm came in around dark as huge gusts of wind threatened to blow our gear around. A tarp got blown for a ride, but was located and secured.
There was no precipitation when we woke, and we hurried to get on the trail for as many dry minutes as we could. Our route out would follow the tote road- a snowmobile trail this time of year. Despite arcing away from our destination before turning in the right direction, we decided the speed of the trail would greatly overshadow the indirectness.
...And we were right. We got off to a very encouraging start- the trail was packed and decent skiing with just a bit of mist in the air. After the 1.5 miles out the Kidney Pond road the Tote road, the trail became very very icy. However, there was a little bit of slush and water on top of the ice which made the going a little slick side-to-side, but also forward- which happened to be the direction we were heading.
Before long mist turned to drizzle, then drizzle to rain. We stopped at the Abol Campground for a bite and were amazed at the amount of ground we had covered, especially compared with the slow trudge in a few days before.
After a quick lunch, we were back at the trail and were rewarded by a couple of long slick downhill runs. Before we knew it the junction at Abol Beach was upon us and we sloshed the last soggy 1.5 miles out the rapidly deteriorating conditions. The snow was disappearing gradually. We realized that our trip out would have been much more difficult if we had started any later in the morning.
The Vanagon was an island in the lake of a parking lot. We got into some dry clothes and hit the road with plenty of time to make it home before the Super Bowl.
This adventure was very different from our trek last year. The battle of the bitter cold last year was replaced by the damp slog and the battle over inner frustration this year. I'm grateful for a vastly different experience, and can't wait to see what next year brings.
Monday, February 06, 2006
...sunspots
I'm not sure who likes the sunspots in our living room better, but there's no lack of Vitamin D around here!
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