In November of 1990, That Old Woman was living in Salt Lake City, as was my brother. Tom and I, and my sister and her husband Len, decided to visit there for Thanksgiving. It was gorgeous and snowy, and David, who skis, offered to take anyone interested skiing. The day before their planned ski date, he wanted to drive to the desert. My sister, Len, and Tom went along, and they saw all kinds of wildlife including eagles and I don’t remember what else. Mother and I opted not to go because she wanted to see a movie. It was a new release that I’d never heard of: Dances With Wolves. We both loved it–which seems weird to me now, as I’m afraid to see War Horse even though I don’t think the horse dies, yet every freaking animal was dying in Dances With Wolves. But I digress.
That night, while Tom and Len were getting ready for their big ski date the next day, we tried not to tell Debby too much about the movie. This photo was taken then and is one of my favorite pictures of my mother and Tom.
The next morning, my brother picked up the guys. Mother, Debby, and I went shopping and to the movie. My sister did love it. Then we went home to hear about the Great Snow Adventure of 1990. I’m not saying Tom and Len were bad skiers, but at one point after Len came to a–let’s call it less than graceful–stop, they heard someone’s voice call out from the ski lift overhead, “Now that’s entertainment!”
I AM saying Tom was|is a bad skier. Can’t say much about Len or David, barely saw them after we got going. My favorite memory of that day was sitting with my ass planted in a snow drift for quite a long time, catching my breath, and enjoying the amazing mountain view.
I’ve been skiing. the experience taught me that some people are meant to sit in the chalet drinking hot chocolate and listening to the stories of their ski friends.
I saw Dances with Wolves with my Mom too – at the cinema pub over wine and pizza, at one point, when we first saw the herd of buffalo she leans over and whispers “they only used two buffalos, the rest were computer generated.” For years … YEARS we would argue about this, in a fun way – she insisting the buffalo were special effects and I would say there was a real herd they used in South Dakota. On one of her trips in the RV with my Dad I received a postcard with a big buffalo on it. and on the back she wrote “you were right.” She had seen the herd ! Winning after it had been going on for years was bittersweet, because I miss arguing about it.