(Also known as, who says you can’t have fun skiing, even when your poor children are sick and lethargic).
We started the weekend with cheese doodles, a.k.a. “pirate booty”.
We had “cultural experiences” in Bar Harbor.
Some of us petted dead baby seals.
Then we went for a ski. Thank god for the sleds. We pulled the wee fellows through almost two feet of fresh snow:
I skied back to get the car, and 15 minutes later I returned to two fellows asleep on their sleds and Tim standing watch next to them, listening to the chickadees and our babies snoaring:
Happy birthday, Reid! We love you!
Mom and dad.