I went to Colorado this week. Yep, I saw beautiful mountains, deer, elk, buffalo, buffalo chips (poo), a black bear, and every shade of brown under the sun. I set out on this vacation to snow ski. I've always wanted to, but figured it was one of those things a clumsy girl like me should never do. I did it! Sure I stayed on the bunny hill the entire time and my dad (a real ski person) kept telling me to stop looking at my skis and my four year old zipped past me without falling on his rump once. The kid even lifted one leg then the other. Showboat! I fell twice at the very beginning. I felt unsteady and my brain automatically sent the message to fall good and proper. I excel at falling the right way to minimize injury. You learn that nifty trait after hundreds of stitches, a handful of concussions, a few broken bones...you get the picture. Once I realized the point was to find balance, I stopped throwing myself down on the slush. I loved it. I sucked at it. I wanted to chuck my snow boots off the mountain, or maybe chuck them at my dad. I'm happy to be back in the land of rain and all-over-green. Maybe I'll try skiing again, or maybe it's time to tackle another adventure wish list...zip line baby!