Winter Solstice...early.

Last night, at very last minute, we celebrated the start of winter at the real red house that rocks...the Anderson's. Every year they have a solstice party to welcome the season and to appease the gods (or Gods) for more snow. It worked a bit, we got about an inch last night. Part of the event is to have a mini ski race to help decide who sits where, if at all, at the head table. Here are some shots.
Mr. Imholte gets the award for biking the furthest to the party. He and Mr. Anderson also had an impromptu jam season!

For some reason the ski race got into the "outfits" more than any other year. The start of the race is slamming a beer. The mean age of the party attendees is getting up there, so the beer slamming is starting to lack.

Mr. Stone and his blinky hat and shimmer shirt.

Some of us had issues with the jump.

We wear short shorts.

Damn...Mr. Sexy.

Shit, I look pro.

My beer was swapped out with a root beer. That stuff is hard to chug. I had a burp with chunks around the first corner. It didn't slow me down, helping secure a spot at the head table.

Our new Christmas Card.

Are those real?

I believe a great time was had by all. One attendee took it a bit too personal about not making the head table, but that's the way the ball rolls...or maybe too much booze.

I had planned on skiing or biking this morning, before work, but getting to bed at 3 am kind of put a monkey wrench into that plan. I opted for more sleep. I have been pretty tired lately. Not wanting to push myself to sickness I rolled back over and slept.

Maybe I'll ski tonight on our new inch of powder.

Later.