Winter in the Teton Mountain Range isn’t for sissies. Sure, you can hibernate in your home for six months, wrapped in quilts and sipping hot cocoa (with marshmallows on top) but that would be defeating the purpose of living in Teton Valley. If you live here, you must embrace the winter, endure mud season and go wildly bonkers during our brief summer.
My sister sends me photos like the one on the left.
This was taken last month in Newport Beach.
To the right, my daughter, Hanna, walks her horse in Teton Valley snow at 12 below.
I have additional challenges during this season in the form of my sister who lives by Newport Beach and loves to send “winter” photos showing her shivering in 83 degree weather.
In our character-building winter season, I have to dig for the inner fortitude to get outside and keep up with some type of outdoor recreation. Snow shoeing and cross- country skiing begins right at my front door. Grand Targhee Resort is just 8 miles up the road and I have a season pass! Add in ice-skating, hockey, snowmobiling, an indoor riding arena and a good selection of fitness centers and there’s simply no excuse for me to put on mama-bear blubber every year.
And yet … I do. Cry me a frozen river.
Deck the halls with bowls of candy;
fa la la la la…
‘Tis the season for elastic waistband-y;
fa la la la la…
Don we now our big sweatpantsies;
fa la la la la la la la la!
As we scarf chocolate ganache-ee;
fa la la la la… you know the rest.
The holidays are here and I can detect the aroma of fresh baked pie, eggnog, Christmas cookies and fear. Fear smells like lycra and tight leather belts. It creeps upon me like a snug, tucked-in shirt and squeezes my muffin-top with unrelenting pressure. And then — just when I think I might be able to resist the inviting tin of Williams Sonoma peppermint bark — my powers of magical thinking return and I’m suddenly able to eat a sheet of that delectable bark with the full expectation that I will actually lose weight due to the fat-burning properties of hot sweet peppermint.
Resolve to be an embarrassment to your children. It’s good for you.
There comes a time for every parent when we realize that we’ve become a hindrance to our children’s social success. Our very presence can spell doom, especially if we’re dressed inappropriately – and we’re always dressed inappropriately – and heaven forbid if we were to open our mouths and speak while within earshot of our teenagers’ compadres. (At this very moment, a teenager is cringing over my use of the word “compadres”).