Day 23: When We Took the Mountain Air

 Today I was feeling a little Novemberish for a bit, even though I've had a really nice week after a really great week-end. I started sounding the depths of our basement storage space behind the laundry room, for which I had to brace myself because I was at a point in the process where a lot of areas of the house had started to look much better, and this was going to mean plunging wholeheartedly into chaos again for a bit. The most I've done back there is take out the Christmas decorations and put them back for many years. You know how in archaeology you have to dig through successive layers to go back further in time? It's time for me to go more Paleozoic. 

I don't think I ever posted the pictures from when we took my parents to Mont Tremblant in October. My mom had been feeling pretty down about not being able to travel for the last couple of years, and Matt had hotel points. 

"It's not The Westin," he corrected me, "It's LE Westin".

We could not have picked a more spectacular weekend weather-wise.

We could walk out the end of our hotel right into the pedestrian village, and had lunch on this patio almost directly under the chair lift.

When we got there, I peeked out into the hallway to see if our bags were almost there and caught the bellhop riding on the luggage cart, which I would totally do given half the chance.

The first night after dinner Matt asked my dad if they were going to have a nightcap once we got back to our room (five minutes away). My dad said "at least". I said "so, like, full pajamas?" and he said "and slippers."

The second night we went to dinner at a restaurant above the casino, with a giant window facing on the mountains.

And with that, I will take my shovel and pickaxe and resume my excavating duties.