It's a crazy blogging world!

Oh my word! There are so many of you Mighty Finn followers who were bloggers all this time and I didn't know! It's a secret world and now I'm in it! I belong! Anyway, I've spent the last day surfing through everyone else's blogs. I realize I have a looooong way to go to get up to blogging speed!

Today I had one of those days where everything was procrastinatable. I realize that's not actually a word, so I'm officially introducing it here. And the definition I'll assign to it is: Adjective. As in "procratinatable activities." Meaning you could do certain activities (like work, fold laundry, prepare taxes, etc.). And probably should do said activities. But no one is really checking up on you so who the hell cares? Just wait a few more days until panic mode sets in.

So with a whole bunch of procrastinatable activities on my list, I decided I would go skiing after I did one non-procrastinatable activity--open a business bank account. Eamonn has only been, um, suggesting I do this for the last 11 months and I couldn't stand to see the vein in his temple bulge out any further so I thought I'd oblige him. Then I was actually supposed to meet him to go skiing during lunch. But he got called away to an inspection so we couldn't ski. So I called Tara who also had conflicting plans. I considered skiing alone, but it was snowing, the weather was gray, not blue and pretty, so I went home and decided to go snowshoeing on the golf course.

Now, when I think of freezing to death in the snow, I picture it happening out in the Colorado backcountry somewhere--not on the golf course surrounded multi-million dollar homes (in which we do not live). I set out on my little jaunt and immediately realized that I was completely overdressed. I had dressed for skiing and never changed gear. So about 1/3 of the way around the golf course, I had to disrobe. Not completely of course, but I did remove my hat, mittens, hand warmers, neck gaiter and coat. I left on my long underwear, fleece, ski pants and boots with footwarmers, and of course, my snowshoes. I was freaking sweaty in the dead of winter on a golf course.

I do wonder if anyone was at home in these multi-million dollar homes I was trekking behind. Because if they were, they got quite a show. First, I fell down a snowbank that was taller than I was. I know we live in Colorado, but my word, we are having an unusually snowy winter. I was actually on the golf course for awhile, but after slogging through knee-deep powder for awhile ("awhile" = 30 seconds) I needed a break and tried to cross the 5 1/2 foot snow pile to the recreation path. I made it. Just not on my feet. It's not so pretty when you get all tangled up in your snowshoes.

After I stopped sweating so violently and my pulse went back down below 200, I was ready to tackle the golf course again. So I cut through someone's yard. And got caught up in snow that came halfway up my thigh. That's when I thought, "This is it. I'm going to be stuck here until the spring thaw. Sweating and yet frozen all at the same time."

I'm starting to think that maybe I'm not an outdoors person. It almost makes me want to stop procrastinating.