Yukon is finally coming home after what seems like an endless week. Bear and I have been eating things like nachos and pizza, staying out much too late, and generally indulging ourselves in nothing but mindless, out-of-house activity so Handyman can finish what flooring he can while we wait for the remainder of product to arrive from a store in Kenai. Yes, we ran short, Lowe's isn't carrying our brand anymore, and the only place that has more is three long hours south.
This morning Bear and I attended our local Special Olympics Winter Games, held at our little ski area, and starring athletes I ski with on Thursday nights. I wanted Bear to meet some of my "Buddies" and really get a sense of the athletes' accomplishments, for some simply making it down the course. He got it. Clapping and cheering for our first wave of athletes, we made it through about 20 skiers before we needed to get across town to our own ski event, Little Nordic class at Kincaid Park.
After a quick lunch and hasty wardrobe change, Bear shuffled off to his class and spent an hour practicing food-related stances like "pizza" and "french fries", along with the duck walk (not food but certainly entertaining to watch). With 30 or so kids (and a bunch of hovering parents), our coaches are a dedicated and affiable bunch, not minding a mommy armed with a camera taking shots of antics going on all around them.
The weather is warm today; in the 30's, and the sun has been shining all afternoon with a warmth not felt for months. We hesitate to call it spring, but darned if it doesn't feel like something like. Yukon arrives home in the middle of the night, sometime, just in time to help us celebrate our Valentine's Day tomorrow with chocolate chip waffles and bacon. Bear has missed his dad, he is one lost puppy without his kindred spirit, and I'm afraid I'm a poor substitute.
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