Scary, scary stuff…

So I’m still trying to confirm this, but I heard on the radio yesterday that the National Weather Service is predicting for Wyoming a warm and dry winter.

Holy buckets Batman.

This is truly NOT good news.

I talked with someone in Steamboat Springs today.  It’s dire straits there as well.  The mountain opened today…with ONE run only.  One.  Uno.  1.  That’s not much.  At this late in the month of November.  Oh, and that one lonely run is all snow-blown snow…as in man-made.  Kind of like the stuff on the cover of the last Pottery Barn catalog, showcasing the lovely Christmas decorations at the entrance to the equally lovely large, white home.  If you looked closely enough you could see the utter and complete fakeness of the ever-so-carefully piled bits of white, fluffy stuff. 

So…if you go skiing in Steamboat, take along the Pottery Barn catalog and you’ll feel right at home.

See, once again, I bring it all together in one big circle.  But at least these thoughts are out of my head and down on the paper so to speak.  It feels so much better that way.

So, dear friends, say a little prayer, do a little rain dance (make that snow dance), get out the voo doo dolls (make that paper maiche mountains maybe) and invoke all sorts of blessings…we’re getting desperate here.  And NOT just for good skiing days…if we don’t get some moisture this winter, next summer and fall will be downright nightmarish.  Even worse than this last summer and fall.  And I’m just not sure my heart will survive that.

With that lovely little thought, I bid you adieu.

About madranchwife

Mother, Mad Ranchwife(as in--at times-- crazy, nutso, loco, off-my-rocker insane), Veterinarian, Physical Therapist, "Liberal, pinko, gay-loving, Subaru-driving Socialist" (as I've been called), proud to be a totally tree-huggin', climate change believin', granola girl environmentalist, ObamaGirl, Pro-Choice (don't even get me started here...), and in my younger days a feminist vegetarian as a result of time spent at CU Boulder (this lasted approximately 14 months, until all the Jimmy Buffett I was listening to caused me to crave a cheeseburger). Now I just get pleasure out of swimming against the stream and ruffling a few feathers here in the wild west state of Wyoming!
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