At Chocolate Chip Mint (see above) Lynn C. writes about skiing to a sound track somewhere in the Midwest which got me to remembering a ski place somewhere near Lisle, IL, which had a world-class, Swiss-style chalet with a big fireplace and an even bigger bar and a conversation pit and lots of people lounging around in upscale ski togs and, outside, a ski area that looked for all the world like a three-lane bowling alley. And skied like a bowling alley as well.
That (except for one place up along the river near Galena that I've never seen, but always admired the billboard for) is pretty much what all the ski venues in Illinois look like - that, and covered with ice. Midwesterners, as a rule, would do better skiing on ice skates.
Now here, we need water wings. This has been an incredibly tiring and depressing week, late-winterwise. It snowed - I say "snow" because it was nominally white, but in fact it was much more like rain - every day, most days just an inch or so but enough to keep the sidewalks covered in giant puddles a couple of inches deep (splash splash) surrounded by slush to about the same depth (squish squish), which means pulling boots off and on got added to the wrapping and unwrapping and, hence, did I say tiring? Perhaps I did.
It warmed up modestly today and the weathergnome has been kind enough to insert one (1) sunny day into next week's forecast, lest we go all the way around the bend.
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