Lucie and the Princess head for Snow Country!

In February of this year, the Princess and I decided that draught-stricken, sunny California’s mottos of “if it’s yellow, let it mellow” and “if it’s brown, flush it down” needed a rest and we needed to head for a state not overly concerned with how many times you showered and flushed your toilet.


The two of us decide that some outdoor fun in Utah is the perfect anecdote for two, outta shape, Buddha belly old farts needing to clear out the old cobwebs of our menopausal minds and bodies.


After all, the Princess has been avoiding her company’s infamous elevator and climbing 60 stairs every day to get to her office, and I’ve been walking 30 minutes a day in the neighborhood.


(I’d say both our Buddha bellies were in kick-ass shape and ready to do some serious damage on those mountains!)


As luck would have it, we start our trip getting stuck in a traffic nightmare on the way to the airport that has the Princess using her iPhone every 3 minutes for updates on traffic that only gets worse with each passing minute, and gives me major back spasms that coincide with said traffic reports being disseminated by something called WAVE or WAZ or WTS on her nifty, new iPhone.


I’m not the “techie” in the family and have no idea who or what the Princess is “communicating with” – I’m just trying like hell to avoid playing “bumper cars” with the BMW-drivin’, butt-head on the side of me who’s decided that he wants to sit in traffic in front of me, instead of on the side of me.


So, while I’m busy racing with Mario Andretti going 2 miles per hour, something (or someone) on her iPhone, named Siri or Sherri (or who the hell knows what!), annoyingly keeps informing us to avoid the roadways that we were currently using and to absolutely not (under any condition!) use the bridge we were idling on – not, not, not!!!


At this point, I’m ready to test “Sherri’s” ability to swim the SF Bay, and the Princess instinctively and protectively decides that maybe we need to shut her up and discreetly slides her nifty, new (soon to be drowned) iPhone into her purse.


Noticing my obvious stress with the fact that we are more than likely to miss our scheduled flight time, she decides that a little diplomacy and soothing reassurance are the way to go and lovingly (and calmly) states, “Hun, it’s no big deal if we miss the plane. We book a hotel for the evening by the airport and we fly out in the morning. No biggy. Relax, ok?”


“Yep, “ I’m thinking to myself.


“That’s certainly a comforting suggestion. Just what I want to do with my limited retirement monies – spend an arm and a leg on a hotel “sleeping” in a city known more for it’s criminal activities than it’s lovely skylines and sunny, warm beaches.”




As luck would have it, OUR plane was late landing, so everything worked out and we make it to SLC – late, a little tired and full of jelly bellies and Cheez-its, but none the worse for wear.


No biggy.


These two Buddha bellies are doing some kick ass snow shoeing up Donut Falls in the morning and the jelly bellies and Cheez-Its will serve us well as nutritional supplements for the day.




That’s exactly what I was thinking, the next day, as I watched the Princess pirouette over the front of her snowshoes, do an aerial that would make even Alisa Camplin (the Australian aerial skier who won gold at the 2002 Salt Lake City Olympic Games) jealous, and end up with a full, frontal face-plant in the snow bank.


Yep! Those damn jelly bellies!


(She should have stuck with just Cheez-Its. At least she would have had some protein from the cheese in the crackers.)


I don’t know whom I felt sorrier for – the Princess with her face buried in the snow bank or my shocked, dumbfounded sister-in-law looking down at her and wondering what the shit just happened?


It was something that even I (with my uncanny ability to weave a story) cannot accurately describe to an unsuspecting reader.


Let’s just say that the Princess is somewhat of an “athlete wannabe” with the heart of a lion, but the midriff of a Crescent Dough Girl, and that it wasn’t a sight for the faint of heart.


Oh well.


We may be old and slightly “fluffy” in the midriff section, but far be it for anyone to ever tell us that we can’t do something that maybe we shouldn’t be doing!


Life is good in our shoes today, People.


Be kind to one another and remember: It’s not always HOW we do things in life, but simply that we show up and TRY


Catch ya next time for another adventure looking at life from my shoes.