Sock Francisco - Episode 1
Travelling directly after a holiday is something I almost never do (on a holiday, maybe, but I'm fortunate enough to live near my immediate family and ambivalent enough to not have bothered travelling when I did not that even this is a rare occasion). Another thing I almost never do is travel with checked baggage. These two things may nearly have doomed our trip before it began, as I choose an airport shuttle destined to bring me and my baggage to the airport just an hour and fifteen minutes before the scheduled departure. That's something I also, pretty much never do, but the alternative was getting there about four hours in advance and I just couldn't fathom being at the airport twice as long as the flight itself. An hour from drop off to gate is one of those perfect slates of time if all runs perfectly oiled and without a glitch. With any particular thing going awry, however, it can derail in a second. I was rather convinced derailment impended when I heard that Andrew had had troubles with the bag check during his check in process, remembered it was a holiday travel, and then that our shuttle was running behind schedule as of Tulalip with one Seattle stop to go. Needless to say this followed a harried tear through the house, the car, the house, the car, etc. trying to locate my phone on the way to the shuttle. Also, needless to say, my luggage was the absolute last piece of stowed luggage to be unpacked from the airporter. And yet, the heavens smiled upon me and TSA and United doffed their grinchy reputations to give me a small hoiday miracle: from drop off to gate took me fifteen minutes! Beat that, Jimmy Stewart and your little wingless angel!
Apparently I was not the only one battling the conviction that I would not be making the flight today. Lisa, my MIL-Elect, also had it in her head that we were not coming in today, but rather tomorrow. Fortunately, we had planned to meet up with one of Andrew's long time high school friends, an ex pat visiting for a short while and willing to come all the way to the airport to buy us food at Subway and give us a really sweet gift (once used by families to ward off evil, now used to decorate dogs... or something like that). As it was, by the time Andrew became concerned about not hearing back on his text message to call and see what was up, we still had some good hanging out time to indulge in as Lisa sped to the airport.
The evening was a pleasantly relaxed pace, with Lisa making culinary confections to meet the contradictory tastes of her ravenously carnivorous son and his abstemious Quaker rabbit of a fiance (the gift to be simple is the gift to taste nummy, especially if it's plain grains and veggies...). After I thwarted her initial plans by discovering chicken fat in the pilaf stock (I am the Sherlock of sneaky ingredients - there's fish sauce in all your Thai food too, by the way), she made us this fabulous israeli couscous with butternut squash and grilled vegetables and salad. Ok, me, she made me that. She made Andrew a big shank of lamb and let him snack through the other dishes. After dinner, Andrew battled with the new sound system Lisa had acquired (I am uncertain of the end success), while I coddled my new present Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking and appropriately withdrew to the room with it in tow.
Sock Francisco - Episode Two
I have said Sockmas is over and skiing has begun, but the last gasps of 2012 Christmas celebration lurked in crepuscular nooks of Friday's festivities, ready to consume, celebrate and possibly hug between pleasantries. The Wright Family dinner! The Wrights are universally lovely people. Quirky and dynamic enough to be in their own IFC holiday themed movie, but not so much so that any one is wielding a gun by the time the credits are rolling. So far, anyways (knock on wood).
Of course, they come in gross usually and with high explosions of energy that can tucker me plain out on an energetic day. Not only do I have one of those introvert "off" switches when I've reached sufficient levels of (often comparatively mild) levels of ongoing stimulation, but eating and sleeping have a major effect on what I guess I'm calling my social battery - my ability to stay engaged in a conversation without blanching and needing to remove myself from company. When the clock had turned to eight with no hint of dinner, my hopes of making it through the evening without bursting into tears may have momentarily burst. Fortunately, it followed closely apace and had sufficiently vegetarian items to tide me through until my next "I'm tired" battery related crisis.
The highlight of the trip was a brief exchange of gifts, during which Andrew's father gave me a book and explained "Not that I'm saying anything, of course, but..." The book was a gently written autobiography of a marriage in which the man had Asperger's Syndrome. He winked at me with his typical glint in his eye when I unwrapped it and assured me again that it wasn't that he was saying *anything* of course about his son. I love that my mother in law elect bought me a book about introverts and my father in law elect bought me a book about aspies. Once I'm done with the introvert book, I can lend it to Andrew so we can "read about each other." Not that I'm saying anything about my boyfrianceband, of course... no, Andrew is often fascinated by objects and inattentive to social cues, but he is far from disordered (disorderly, perhaps is arguable considering the state of his room on a given day) in any particular direction. Unless Engineer happened to have made it into the DSM V.
I also acquired a pair of rental skis at a sporting goods Shangrila called Sports Basement, a repurposed grocery store on the Presidio. And with that, I believe I'm fully equipped - absent the talent and skill, part - to go hurtling down a cold, icy mountain for my third time ever! Nervous? Never. I've gone two trips of two to three days a piece and have yet to injure myself. And that's saying something, since I have managed to cut myself on a banana and bruise my face on an airplane tray in years past.
Sock Francisco Episode Three
To the mountain! To the mountain. Evohe, etc. etc. The official Tahoe segment kicked off with an Audi, four people, more luggage than an average airplane hold, and a dog. The luggage was mostly ski related, with bits and pieces of cabin-maintenance and the odd shred of warm clothing, which was necessary considering the universally sub-freezing temperatures in the forecast. All of the luggage - except for most of the ski gear - was, fortunately, mostly "squishy." The dog was Tom's - an average sized animal of hearty disposition and a tail peaked for bruising shins. Despite her exuberant bonhomie, she was blessedly placid during our three and a half hour jaunt. As were we all, once the final battles with the trunk were finalized with official treaties and latching locks.
As is typical, our arrival commenced with a group dig - shoveling the odd feet of snow away from the door so that we could get in. Lisa crawled through the top hatched to turn on the heat, which was necessary considering Tahoe's sub-freezing temperatures. Heat! It was torturously slow to come. Having had ice cold feet all day despite any and all interventions, my heated mattress pad and mountains of blankets provided a long anticipated respite for my extremities. Warm socks only help for so long before they are merely insulating cold. My battery operated slippers work well, but only for about four hours, after which they need five to recharge... so held mostly in reserve. In future trips, I'll know to invest in additional batteries and always keep some charged. Granted, warm feet came at the cost of a hot torso (or did this come as a result of genetics and healthy living?), but this is a deal I'm happy to make. Andrew was less so and there was much tossing turning and rearranging of blankets before either of us were in a state to drift off. I thought telling him to just go sleep in one of the other beds in the cabin was perfectly reasonable, but he seemed to disagree. He instead turned off my side of the mattress pad thinking it was his, thus compounding the problem. Something I take the majority of the blame for, as I set up the bed earlier. Unfortunately it's always difficult to figure out which control goes with which side when you set up the bed for the first time.
It will also be time for skiing.With my new boots. And a heraldically described ugly sweater that looks something akin to one of Bill Cosby's trademarks. And a huge russian hat fashioned from what once was a very toasty animal. I'm not sure if I'll look horrifying or hipster, but it will be one of my more fashionably adventurous days at the cabin.
To be continued...
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