is the colour of the sky this past weekend. See what I mean?
We went up north to visit my in-laws, and we just happened to land on one of the most glorious weekends of the past decade, I wager.
The ice on the lake was frozen, with no snow on it. Both my hub and I can only remember one other winter in the last 30-odd years where this has happened. The sun was ridiculously bright and the sky was totally clear. And Friday night as we were driving up, I could see that the sky was just crammed with those billions and billions of stars we can never see down here in the Big Smoke.
There were ice fishermen out there on Saturday, so Charlie and I slid off in the afternoon to say hello to them, and Charlie got his first gander at some cold, dead fish.
Next afternoon the three of us went out again. We marvelled at how beautiful it all was. We also measured the ice: about two feet thick.
We strolled down to the little island on the point and checked out the ice caves. Pretty cool, eh?
Best thing? My father-in-law seems to be making progress recovering from his heart surgery.