BRRRR Baby It's Cold Inside

WHN left my camera in his shorts and washed them. The camera still turns on, but it does not take pictures. Nice. So until I replace it, cellphone pics if pics at all!

December has been weird. The past 2 weeks I have been trying to talk WHN into going to see the 10 minute fake snow storm that Las Vegas Town Square puts on at 7pm nightly. WHN is not enthusiastic about driving to a mall, parking, wading through the crowds to get a good spot to wait for a fake snow storm. What a killjoy. Pretend climate changes are things I love about Vegas. I thought we could make a night of it and go see the new revamped fake volcano in front of Mirage too. Normaly the valley doesn't get snow snow-- maybe for a few minutes here and there. Yesterday, however, Vegas, got a real snow storm and we had 3-5 inches. Yes WHN was quite smug to have his own storm.

Personally December has been weird too, and I can't quite put my finger completely on it. We never turn the heat on in the house. Historically this has been because Petunia hated a warm house. She loved to sunbathe in 100+ weather, but the house, ALWAYS had to be cold. WHN said growing up in Ireland they never used the heater either. Not like I can fact check that tidbit, but I find it kind of doubtful, but for Petunia, if we were told to bring blocks of ice in, we would have. As for Ireland, they didn't have a microwave either, so anything is possible.

But now with Petunia gone, I still can't really bring myself to demanding we have heat. It's freezing inside believe you me, but just like I don't like to admit that it is kind of nice sometimes to not have to rush home to let her out, I don't want to be in a warm comfortable house thinking, "oh this is nice now." Don't get me wrong, I am complaining about the cold on a daily basis. I am huddled under my electric blanket, but I can't bring myself to demand we have the heater running. I realize now that I don't want to benefit from her absence.

Ironically, the month without a camera, is the month that I have had some major knitting output. Items to my non-knitting friends, I haven't sent yet because well... let's say that yes they do actually take pictures for me even though they don't really understand why I want pics of my work. I can really only get pics of them in it and not say a cool close up picture of it. I'll say that I want close-ups so I can document the yarn or the stitch, but you and I know that it's so I can be impressed with myself. Ah well, I need to put ego in check and send the stuff. Thankfully I have made a couple items of late that are going to a fellow kniter who will be quite happy to take pics.

I'm not sure what else is making December weird for me. I just know this month has been unsettling for me. I'm going to go with it and ride it out.

Kraft Mtn Loop

Just outside of Red Rock Canyon Park is Kraft Mountain which obscures probably one of the most spectacular Nevadan desert areas. Once past the first steep uphill mile, a whimsical color-filled area of yellow, red, purple striped and polka dot boulders.







Though there is no scrambling really, there are three areas where you have to sit and slide 15 feet down boulders. The first 2 slides, I was fine.


Slide 1- about 15 feet of FUN!


Second slide, look at that soft landing!

The third... OY! This one had an "ass groove," however, I had to sit to the left of the groove and leaning forward, push to the right to actually get into the groove. I know hard to picture. The groove provides a slide, but outside of this groove, it's a drop.

My arm wasn't as long as it should have been, but I did make it into the groove, but the shorts I was wearing rode, and now half of my right butt cheek is now at the Kraft Mountain Loop. Lovely.

I was going to warn about the nudity, but eh.



The combination of the intense colors and patterns with having to use rock slides, makes this hike magical (except for the ass part. That wasn't so magical inasmuch as painful.) Instead of being 20 minutes from The Strip, I felt like I was walking in the land of Lorax.