Ted's Last Run

Beaver Mountain Ski Resort is the oldest continuously family owned  ski area in the country and where the Garlick Press spends winter days. Ted and Marge Seeholzer, owners of the ski resort are friends of ours. It's impossible to imagine that we barely knew them until after we lost our Jocie.

I'll never forget their faces when they stood on our doorstep just days after Jocie's death. Blank and sullen, they had answers to the questions we didn't even know we had yet. The logistics of her accident...the response time from ski patrol, the details that would eventually be asked.  

Carefully, they stepped around our grief impoverished minds. Tears fell as they tried to piece together the moments surrounding Jocie's last run at Beaver Mountain and make sense of the senseless tragedy. Marge hugged me tight as they left that evening almost six years ago. She had hoped to help us find peace by their visit...and yet somehow she felt that they benefited the most. The Seeholzers have been so good to Dean and I...their grace and generosity empowered our grieving souls.

Photo from Beaver Mountain

This past May...81 and failing in health, Ted Seeholzer passed away. His presence on the mountain will forever be missed. With an oxygen tank attached to his side, hardly a ski day went by last winter that he wasn't driving a four-wheeler, checking on lifts, or smiling at skiers having a fun-filled day.

This past Saturday the ski resort hosted a memorial for Ted's Last Ski Run. Of course we couldn't miss it!

There are a whole bunch of Seeholzer descendants...and it seems they all made it up to the mountain. Including nine months+one week pregnant and ready to deliver Channing. She wouldn't have stayed home if you made her. That's the degree of passion for skiing in this clan.

Jocie's friend Autumn is a Seeholzer and according to Mother Teresa (Autumn's mom) she's part ours too. Considering ourselves lucky, we happily claim that part.

Mike and Kris made it to the top bright and early. Kris has been re-habing after knee surgery and pushed up her entrance back on the slopes just a little sooner than recommended.

Beaver Mountain is a ski resort like none other I've ever seen.

One big family.

Every age...

and they all came out to celebrate the tremendous legacy of a man who loved his family, this mountain and the sport of skiing!

My cat skier boys had only been home a few hours when they packed up their ski equipment that was still not completely dry from their Canadian adventure.

Balloons were passed out to everyone.

Smiles were abundant! It felt like a big family reunion of long lost relatives you didn't know you had. I have to believe heaven is going to feel just like this!

I have the utmost respect for our Ski Patrol at Beaver Mountain...always will!

Ted's son Travis welcomed everyone at the top of the lift and gave us the details of the memorial last run.

Ski patrol would be the first down the mountain...

leading the way to the South Face Run.

Where beginning with the Ski School Instructors...all of us would traverse the steep slope through the middle of the columns of Ski Patrolmen.

And it was glorious!

Skier by skier...snowboarder by snowboarder...all the people that loved and appreciated Ted poured through that column of red.

I think I know exactly how Marge felt as she watched this. Her heart filled with gratitude, love, and yet still grieving as she longs for her husband Ted.

Following the last skier down, we gathered around the lodge as Ted's friend Bill told us a few fun stories about the beloved owner of Beaver Mountain.

The balloons were released and sailed toward heaven...

where hopefully Ted will scoop them up and send them back to us in the form of snow.

And at the time I am writing this...the snowflakes have begun to fall.

Brunch was served inside the lodge where you could get a bagel, a danish, some fruit

and a Memorial Beaver Mountain Jiggystick made especially in Ted's honor for the event. A huge thank you to our graphic artist and  label printing company who helped us in creating and printing these in less than a week! 

I loved the ice sculpture of the mountain that John from Culinary Concepts Catering carved. So very cool...no pun intended!

My friend Linda and I with Ted's memorial Jiggysticks.

I have often wondered what Jocie's last run on the mountain felt like...what she thought, what the snow felt like under her skis, and if she knew how much she was loved. I would hope that she and Ted watched his Memorial Ski Run from heaven last weekend and felt our love floating upward.

Thanks Ted for all those mornings you woke up way before the crack of dawn to start another ski day for all of us to enjoy. For your belief in the next generation of skiers. And most of all...thanks for your continuing dream of Beaver Mountain. It's been a great ride!

Weekend with O & H

The boys left town for a week of cat skiing in the Canadian wilderness. Since Cass was home alone with hubby traveling too...we made a long weekend out of it.

Olivia and Henry are growing leaps and bounds lately. Board games have become one of their new favorite pastimes. The Sneaky Snacky Squirrel game teaches colors and numbers...Sami the dog would mostly just like to have a squirrel snack.

 Izzy the pooch tags along with me for the weekend and mostly tolerates all the attention from Olivia and Henry...

 mostly! Ah...Princess Izzy Pants!

Whenever I'm with these two little bumpkins lately, I can't help but drool over their zest for adventure. From the moment their peepers open in the morning until they finally drift off to sleep at the end of the day...the world is their playground.

 Sister kisses for Henry.

We decided to go see the Ice Castles in Heber, but when we arrived a very long wait in the freezing cold looked immanent and certain...because everyone and their Aunt decided to have the same adventure on the same day.

Early dinner plans were quickly devised, hoping the crowds would disperse by the time we finished. Cass is a wonderful mamma...every moment is a teaching moment with her little people.

 Henry and I sipped beverages and then we all played Simon Says

and occupied ourselves as best as we could until dinner finally arrived. Patience is not in a toddler's vocabulary.

Snowsuits and hats and boots and gloves and then a moment when Olivia lost it! It seems her hand was nowhere near the end of her glove. In fact, if you look at the length of her forearm you can see that her fingertips are somewhere in the middle of the arm of the coat. Cass and I got the giggles...which Olivia did not appreciate.

We convinced the kids that going inside the Ice Castle was not going to work out for us...after selling the idea to them only an hour earlier. There were promises to return with Daddy Bob when the crowds were down and the sun was warming the air just a little bit more.

 The thing about kids is...they just don't care. Because around the corner is a gazebo that you can run and chase and laugh and forget about going inside the Ice Castles. Oh if only us adults could be more childish sometimes.

Bedtime routines are the sweetest moments in this home. Night Nights and milk they call it. Prayers for all, teeth brushes and storytime. Doesn't childhood sound wonderful right now to you?

 Early every morning the rugrats would sneak into my room...jump into my bed and exclaim "I waked you up Nanny Goat." Then morning snuggles and giggles would ensue aplenty.

Until our next sleepover my sweet sweet grand children...love you, love you long time!

Stitching Genes

Sometimes I conjure images of being brought into this world with skis on my feet and a sewing needle in my fingers. Actually it was my mother who taught me to love and crave all things creative and specifically sewing. The first daughter after two sons, the day I was born my father marched to the Bernina store and bought my mother the nicest sewing machine they made...she still has it! They don't make them like they used to. Mom taught me that the inside of everything I stitched must be as beautiful as the outside, and to have pride in everything I create. Making something with your hands with nothing but the simplicity of thread moving in and out of fabric...is so satisfying. Being of Danish descent, I come from a line of creative women...you might even say it is in my genes. Since I've stitched a few quilts in my lifetime...ok quite a few...I've started making quilts that are challenging, often taking months or even years to complete.

This is one of those. The pattern is a Sue Spargo design which shows off Sue's love of vivid color and folk art.

At first glance you may miss all the details on this quilt. For instance this Eagle's chest is filled with tiny punched wool circles sewed on with french knots.

 Every single applique has been embellished with Valdani threads, silk threads, buttons, and more using a myriad of embroidery stitches.

Finishing the quilt late last summer, I decided to share it at our local county fair. Handing my quilt off to the helpers accepting all the local hand-made quilts, the woman gazed off-handedly at my work, thinking I had embellished the quilt with a little trim here and there.

Upon closer examination, her mouth gaped when she realized the hours and hours of work I obviously had put into this little wall hanging sized quilt.

These little adorable gold stitches are called drizzle stitches.

This quilt sat in my lap for months as block by block I added details,

and fell in love with every single inch of it.

As it turned out my quilt was well received winning the grand prize ribbon of the fair. Not long after, I received offers to purchase it. The price seemed so extravagant for such a little quilt. But this bright piece of my handwork had stitched it's way into my heart and there was no way I was willing to give it up. Today I finally hung it on my quilt wall...and it makes me so happy to see it hanging there.