Frosty the snowgirls

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What the f*#@ were we thinking? We’re parked up just shy of Jasper in full-on grizzly country – as well as horny mating elk territory – and if I could sit right on top of this fire to get warm, I surely would. (To say it’s a bit chilly is kinda like saying Mike Tyson has a slightly girlie voice to go along with that little bitty attitude problem.) Fortunately, my kindly uncle in Calgary bought the girls snazzy new sleeping bags so they will be snug little bugs in rugs. Doog and I, on the other hand, can see our breath in the kind of billowy gusts you’d only expect if you were a bivouac or two short of the Everest summit.

As my mom would say: Saints preserve us ...

Just another summer day in the Rockies

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So that’s it then: scorcher one day, snowflakes the next. Molly, left, and Annie have morphed from sweaty little girls on the prairie into frozen-limbed snowflake catchers here at my beloved auntie’s cabin in Canmore, Alberta. It’s so cold we’ve had to raid the local SAAN for hats and mitts and scarves and tights. (Never mind that it’s still technically summer - these are the Rockies and they will do what they damn well please.)

Between snowball fights and snowman building and trips back in to change, the girls keep running out of dry clothes. But we’ve drawn the line at buying winter boots because after all, it is only September … and how long can this last?

Q: How much western hospitality, Trivial Pursuit by the fire, yummy food, booze and conversation can a travelling family stand?
A: As much as possible. Bring it on! More anything? More everything!