So we planned a quiet New Year’s Eve at home with just the three of us. This was to follow a morning of snowshoeing at sort-of-nearby Mt. Pinos, with Bestie and her parents and another family.
Baguette had a lot of trouble getting to sleep Tuesday night; she and I were up until at least 1 a.m. Still, we were on the road at about 7:45 this morning and at the parking lot at the top of the road just over an hour later.
But then something very unusual happened: Baguette refused to get out of the car and play in the snow. Our girl loves the snow; she’ll put on all her gear and ask for it in August. We’ve made two other snowshoeing trips this month, and she had a blast both times.
This morning, though, she was tired. And it was cold. How cold? It was 13 degrees Fahrenheit in that parking lot. While that just means adding a layer of clothing for Mr. Sandwich and me, it has quite a different meaning for Baguette. I guess she’s not completely impervious to cold after all.
Bestie and her parents couldn’t make it, and eventually we packed up and headed back down the mountain, spotting the third family on their way up as we were on our way home. (Although by that time, we’d have been pretty much done even if Baguette had been willing to leave the car.)
So then a lot of texts went back and forth, and Bestie and family came over to our house for an impromptu New Year’s Eve dinner of take out from a local Mexican restaurant. We cut technicolor snowflakes out of colored copier paper and finished up with ice cream for dessert
A good time was had by all. And Wicket didn’t even have to wear a hat.
Happy 2015, everyone!