Who knew, ice skating would be so.. HARD?!

The graceful figure skaters, the aggressive hockey players – they all make it look like a piece of cake. Kinda. Well, I wasn’t expecting to flip a double-axle-what-not or anything.. but I did not imagine that I would be focusing on trying to not fall backwards and crack my head open. John would say “bend your kneeeeeees!”, so if I lost my balance (which was often), I would fall face first at a closer distance and break my nose, rather than a long way back, and my head. He is one smart cookie. Yet still, it is hard to make a bend-your-knees decision, when you lose control abrubtly and your entire body is bending backwards.

I learned that my left leg is the dominant one. Boy, is she ever. The poor right leg was like an immobile gumby, so every time I would get on a stride.. I would end up slowing down and standing on the rink doing nothing and not being able to move until I pushed off of John. With my left leg, of course. I think my legs need to have a little talk with one another and get on the same page.

It was soooooo much fun though, regardless of my lack of skating talent (i.e. I suck). The only hindering factor was the nasty as all hell rental skates. They were cold, wet, and inhabited a few minutes earlier by some unknownst person with probably some wicked foot disease that only I would not be immune to beacuse I a clean-freak who has probably lost all immunity to germs. This prompted a google search later that night, about the cost of a pair of recreational skates. Only $27! That is so worth not having to come home after an ice skating escapade and just wanting to go to bed, but noooo.. Having to take a shower and scrub the feet with anti-bacterial, spray my regular shoes with the most potent version of Lysol, and putting my clothes in the wash, asap. $27.. coming right up!

Another plus is when you depart the freezing temps of the skating rink and enter into the outside nighttime temp of 49 F, it feels WARM. Ok, not warm-warm, but not shivering to the bone anymore.

This is me.  Ok.  Maybe not.

So, we drove back from a long weekend in Vegas – only to realize that we had just passed through a historic event. It hasn’t snow-snowed in Vegas since the year I cried while entering this great world. That would be 1979, for those who lost this game of trivial pursuit.

Apparently, it has continued to snow even harder since we left – and not just on the drive to and from – but actually IN Vegas. Enough to close down the airport yesterday. Now that’s wow.

On the way there.  Sunny, brisk.

On the way back.  Wait, what?

After the whiteness diminished, this is what we saw:

And something new I learned.  Can’t leave Vegas without singing THE SONG!