One long ago Christmas Eve, after hanging our stockings, putting out milk and snickerdoodles for Santa, we went to bed with that great anticipation of the morning to come. But this Eve was different. We had a plan. After tucking us in, my folks went back down the hall. My sister snuck into my room, climbed into the top bunk and we talked until we heard the door of my folk’s bedroom close.

Then quietly, as quiet as two little mice, we crept down the hall and into the living room. It was exactly as we left it, milk and snickerdoodles un-touched. Pulling the couch out from the wall, we curled up behind, knowing, This time we got it knocked. We’ll see Santa.

Sometime in the middle of the night we both woke and sat bolt upright. We heard the shaking of sleigh bells. The milk was gone. The snickerdooles were gone. A note said “Merry Christmas Jan and Keith!”

And there were presents all around the bottom of the tree.

We missed him.

Our folks heard us talking (duh) and came out to mildly admonish us and shuffled us back to bed without letting us open anything. “Wait until after breakfast in the morning.”

It is time to climb out from behind the couch. Don’t miss anything this year. Leave a glass of milk and a plate of snickerdoodles for Andy and Robin.

We’re going skiing. Friday. At 9am, Fernie Alpine Resort opens.

It’s like Christmas morning. A little early. And it lasts a lot longer.

And be on the lookout for Santa. He might just show for a little early season downhill joy.

Fernie opening

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