Beverly and I got back from Ruidoso last night at about 9:30. We had a great week with the family. Skiing? Well, we did that just enough to know that it's not for me. I think Beverly would agree.
But the mountains were gorgeous. No snow, however. Josh and David and I went to play golf one day, and the club pro said that the course was usually not open until April. He said this time of year, they normally had 3 feet of snow on the course. There was no snow in sight -- not even on the mountain peaks.
Malaya (our granddaughter) was awed by the mountains. She made the whole trip worth it -- just sharing her delight. She went to kiddie ski school one day, and had a blast. Another day we went for a hike, and her imagination about bears and Indians and such reminded me of when I was a kid.
As we were hiking, she was running ahead of us. I was amazed at how much energy she had. Suddenly, the altitude seemed to hit her, and she turned very pale. She didn't feel good. So, Jenny started to carry her back to the car (we guys were not with the girls at that moment.) A few minutes later, I came back to them and Jenny and Malaya were sitting by the path. Jenny was tired from carrying her, and Malaya was lying with her head in Jenny's lap. I picked Malaya up and said I would take her the rest of the way. As I lifted her up, she said, "Mommy, I feel fine now! It's a miracle!"
What can I say? Maybe I have found a new calling.
Anyway, it's good to be home.