Mostly it was amazing because, as I said before, I fucking kicked that trail's ass. It felt good to not feel like I was fucking struggling for breath or being an invalid or worrying about my health. No fucking way dude, it was short (I could have gone for longer, for sure) but it's nice to have a small victory in what seems like a huge sea of defeats.
hah. Taylor in his harness on his string lead.
This is kind of a disappointing shot, but it's the three sisters (Faith, Hope, and Charity). The south sister, which I *think* is all the way to the left in this pic, has a bulge on her. A small one, but it's filling with magma. Kiddies, what does this mean?
We ended up going hiking at the exact same spot that we had gone cross country skiing two years ago...which gave me a bruise...which is what Andy made me get checked out which led to my diagnosis. It was a little surreal, because it was within days of the two year anniversary of when I was diagnosed. Here's an icicle at the head of the trail.
The photos I took are kinda lame...but you get the point and so do I. So there.
I gotta admit, this one's kind of adorable. He took it. :)
We rented a hotel room in Bend and went to the Winterfest there. Ice scupltures and llama wool hats abounded.
This photo does Bend/Sisters a complete fucking disservice...but the sky was pretty.
warm fuzzies also abound...
And I had an NWPCS meeting that I totally was not into going to but it ended up that it was totally what I needed to get my mind off of other stuff.
Also I got almost lost tonight trying to find a Market of Choice but I found a different one and victory was kind of mine...but not really. Only slightly.
And and and my parents' cat Isis died. My mom was laughing while she was telling me the story. Not that cat-death is funny, but mostly because this cat was older than dirt and pretty much ready to kick the bucket. Like...each time I came home I was amazed that she was still alive.