Our neighbor has again cut us off from the interwebs...steps have
been taken, but I am for now disconnected, hence the lack of
communication.
These days have been a quiet, pleasant
malaise with a schedule dictated by the reliable weekly snowfall. Each
Saturday morning I go to work aching from a couple days of powder skiing
or backcountry missions. Aside from the Idiot Bosses, work is great.
The clientele in Victor is the absolute friendliest, most
low-maintenance group of folks I've ever had the pleasure of serving--I
don't know what it is about the working class frontier mentality but
invariably it results in easy, omnivorous, understanding, well-tipping customers.
We've
had over a week-long dry spell, meaning crystal bright days and
chunder-busting at the resort, and glimpses of the elusive Grand in its
heavily-rimed, unfathomably huge glory. The sky here is the most
evocative and expressive I've ever lived under. Weather systems send
advance scouts days ahead, brushing the sky with altostratus, clumps of
cumulus clotting the horizon, wisps blowing fast off the most prominent
Tetons. Snow storms rest heavily at 7000 feet and obscure everything
above. The colors defy description. Early morning shows shale and coral and sunset leaves the hills glowing for
hours. Not to complain about great
weather, but Tahoe skies are almost always a lovely but nondescript blue.
My
social life lacks dimension, but there's something so lovely about
cooking dinner and watching a ski movie or listening to my other roommate
rhapsodize about fly fishing or sitting in a cluster of brewers catching
up on work gossip. And not to be a total girl, but cohabitation has
been perhaps the biggest upside of this new existence. We just get along
so damn well.
I haven't figured out any long
term aspirations but for now, skiing pow and working every once in
awhile seems to be doing the trick.
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