Monday, January 5, 2009

Winter wondering


With the economic "uncertainty" around us - I put that in quote marks, because I wonder what's so uncertain: the economy is certainly horrid - Ben and I have often wondered if we were incredibly foolish to have purchased a two-bedroom bungalow in the mountains of Central Washington this year. Granted, by the time the place was constructed, it was really too late to change our minds, as we had sunk the down-payment and stood to lose it all if we backed out. But, still, it has seemed to hover on the edge of reason at times.

I wonder if we'll end up going up in financial flames because of the investment. But, the past 11 days of solitude, sewing, snowshoeing with Carly and sitting by the fire with a good book helped put the risk in perspective. It was simply wonderful. I'd do it all over again.

Suncadia, the development near Roslyn where our duplex unit sits (under about 10 feet of snow right now), is probably in more financial trouble than we are, but it, too, will stand the test of time, I believe. Let's get Obama into office, get some fiscal stimulus going (enough of the tax breaks as be-all-and-end-all, please) and I think Suncadia will get a chance to blossom and fill out in time. But right now, there are about as many port-a-potties in our little neighborhood as there are houses, as the construction of new units and completion of half-built units have hit a deep freeze - and not just because of the weather. Still, it's a nice place: trees, paths, creeks, a pleasant golf course and a half (the other half also stalled for the lack of economic certainty), a big lodge, a tiny inn and a fitness center with a pool and water slides that keep the youngsters at bay.

It snowed nearly constantly, and Carly and I went out to snowshoe nearly every day. We broke trail occassionally, but given the depth of the snow, we ended up spending most of our time on the groomed trails cut for skiers and snowshoers. The trails were lightly used and we spent most of our time out in the deep snow and deep woods all alone, just a bouncing, happy dog and her heavy-footed mistress who wondered - with Oprah - how did I let myself get this big again?

It was far more exercise than I'm used to, but I didn't lose any weight because I got to exercise another passion of mine: cooking. And, no health food for us! I made pot roast, prime rib and carnitas. I started the day with biscuits and sausage, or eggs benedict with homemade hollandaise sauce. Ben didn't complain, although at one point he asked if I might be trying to kill him by loading up his arteries. After cooking for the past year in a kitchen the size of a small closet, the charm of the big, eat-in kitchen overwhelmed my nutritional better judgement, and with Carly at my side to catch any stray food particles that plopped toward the floor, I indulged.

(Now, of course, I'm on my new New Year's diet, the seventh or eighth in a row ... we'll see where that takes me.)

From that cholesterol-endangered husband, I received two books for Christmas - a book of essays on pre-Inca Peruvian cultures and another I had put on my Amazon.com wish list: Nothing to be Frightened Of by Julian Barnes. It was a wonderful read - like sitting around talking with a good friend, although none of my friends likes to talk about dealth. I recommend it for all atheists; believers could probably learn something from it, but most won't find reason enough to crack it open.

And sewing: I probably spent more time sewing than anything, making book bags and wine bags and finishing a quilt I've been making for my niece for the past two years. With KPLU on the radio, Carly underfoot and a fresh pot of coffee to sip on all day, I'd say I was about as happy as I've been for an extended period of time as I can ever remember.

I hope all of you had some time to relax over the holiday, too. And, someday, you'll have to come up and visit Ben, Carly and me in Suncadia. I promise I'll put away my sewing long enough to make room for the Murphy bed, and I won't poison you with too much cholesterol. I'm over it.