Weather: Only sucks if you own a sled.

Trail conditions: See ya next year. 

The Fat Lady has sung. Thank you everyone that came in to see us this year. Every year has its challenges and this year sure had its share. Hopefully next season will be a lot better.

I will be cooking beef today until about 5pm, then I will be shutting the kitchen down until next December.

Two poets die and end up at the golden gates at the same time. St. Peter tells them that they only have room for one poet and he’s sending them back to earth for two weeks and for each to make up a poem. When they return they will recite their poems and the one with the best poem gets into heaven. As they walk away St. Peter says “Oh by the way, your subject it Timbuktu”. Two weeks later the two poets are back at the gate and St. Peter asks if they have poems and they both say yes. St. Peter says “Ok Longfellow you go first”:


Longfellow’s poem:


Well St. Peter, I see a sea of shinning sand with a castle upon the land,

There’s a caravan passing through,

It’s destination is Timbuktu


St. Peter says “Very good Longfellow, how about you Shakespeare”:


Shakespeare’s poem:


Well St, Peter, Tim and I a hunting we went,

Came upon three fair maidens in a tent,

Them of three and us of two,

I bucked one and Tim bucked two…


Longfellow was sent packing.

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