Thursday night was a little busy for me and Katie. Our friend Andrea and her husband were in town and we had been invited over for dinner at her parent's house. And we were hosting book club afterwards. And sometime during those activities we decided that Gina needed some quality Sister Time. Now throw in packing and weekend-plans-and-responsibilities-adjusting and that made the night a late one. By 5:30 the next morning we were on the road to Utah. Adventure!
(Side note: Growing up with my dad meant we always left on trips for Utah before the sun came up. I think this hearkens back to the days when he was a kid and it used to take 20 hours to drive to Utah and you had to do it in an un-air conditioned car and you wanted to beat the heat of the desert. Or he just likes getting up early and getting miles behind him. Either way, it has been ingrained in us. If you ever drive to Utah with me, I'm sorry, but we're leaving early. I promise to bring good snacks and mixed CDs.)
So I spent the weekend in Utah, doing things like: going to the BYU Singers concert which was good but long, more good than long, but still, long; making homemade Butterfingers, (it will freak you out how close these get to the real thing); taking naps while watching White Christmas; going to Five Guys for dinner (1st timer here. I'm convinced.); visiting the other sibs and nephews and niece, who is, and I'm not even kidding here, the Cutest Sweetest Most Kissable Baby on the Planet; and going up to the Olympic Park in Park City where we were supposed to catch some bobsled races but missed it by like 10 minutes because the weather got too bad but we still got to see the athletes in their spandex man-pri uniforms. The Swiss looked a little snooty.
Speaking of weather, maybe you don't know this but I think cold weather is for chumps. And snow if for chumps with bad hair cuts. When we got out of the car at Park City I very nearly rushed back in. The wind. Oh, the wind. It was making the snow go all sideways. And it wasn't pretty fluffy snow. It was mini cannon balls of snow. Ice pellets of mass destruction.
Guess what I'm saying in this picture as I'm standing in the snow and the cold and the wind:
Here, I'll help you. I believe I was quoting Georgia, "WHAT IN THE NAME OF PANTS AM I DOING HERE?!?!?!"
This was me about 5 minutes later as we started marching into the wind towards the bobsled track:
10 seconds later I finally got smart and closed that top snap, making me all but invisible to the snow.
I will say this, snow is beautiful and this particular brand was perfect for snow balls, of which I made several. But I am a delicate flower and could only handle about 20 minutes out in the elements. The rest of our time was spent in the Olympic museum, where we watched highlights of the Salt Lake Games and I got totally pumped for the London Olympics (I want to start planning my Opening Ceremonies Party right this minute.) We stopped off for some lunch when we got down the mountain, where it wasn't snowy but still cold and I noticed several people wandering around in shorts and flip flops, like they were in Maui or something. I was aghast. Particularly when a gust of wind came by that was so chilling it almost made me burst into tears. When I asked Gina why people were dressed for the beach she said, "It's only 50 degrees." I didn't want to hurt her feelings by insinuating she had lost her California roots but around these parts 50 degrees means you had better find your can opener and head down to the bunker because the end is nigh.