We finally have enough snow for skiing in the woods. Callie and headed up Punkintown Rd. and off down a snowmobile trail. The hemlocks were stooped over the trail so thickly in one place, that even the snowmobiler gave up. I followed the tracks of an intrepid snowshoer, then blazed off on my own, breaking trail for Callie Lou. On our return trip, Callie's sprints settled into short dashes, and then jogs to keep up with me on the down hills. She's learning cross-country ski etiquette--not to stand on my skis, and if she wants to be out front, she needs to keep going! We had a blast, and she was pleasantly pooped. I can hear her snoring by the fire now.
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