And now for another episode of "Skiing with Meaghan and Friends".
Beautiful days out there. Sugar-crystal sprinkled snow on cold days that catches the light, warming temperatures that sends you flying down the trails. I've been carefully judging each hill before I take it or not. Straight track? Packed way? It's a go. A free-flying, wind-rushing, soaring-bird-feel go. Somebody wiped out or obliterated a section with toboggan or snowmobile (cut them at the knee with me ski pole, just a little blood...)? Find a new way or walk down the slope. Kill joys.
That's about it for what I've been up to. Write reports, stoke the fire so that I don't wig out when the house gets too cold, go for ski, maintain some order in our house under destruction.
And wonder...was that the monster moving? Or am I just hungry? I wake up before the alarm with my hand on my stomach and have dreamt (or really felt?) the arms and legs waving within me, the monster doing flips. We went for an ultrasound last week. There's proof. A baby is truly there. And you can actually begin to tell when you look at me now. According to my coffee shop lady and a friend's mom (science fair judge), "you don't pop with your first" until later. Well look out. I think later is upon us. As before, here's my promise for picture...as soon as we have it.
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