A beautiful day to start the John Beargrease Sled Dog Marathon.

Onlookers watch the eager dogs flipping and jumping over each other.

Slender and athletic, they love to run.

Little guy is sad that he can't race until later.

This is my eye. I'm watching you.

Here's an action shot of my new hat, hand made by my secret santa at Plime.com. Why am I standing in the snow? I have no idea.

A swastika intentionally woven into my hat? Hmm...I doubt it.

Here's the fabulous Plime.com upvote button artfully sown into the hat. Now I can look cool while feeling warm.

Frozen

Frozen
So, here we are standing on the curb waiting for our bus to come. It's chilly and overcast except for a small patch of sky where thin slants of light filter through. I look over at Darren and his head is nodding to a beat in his head. Lana, just beyond, is soundlessly forming a grocery list on her lips. And this car, a rusted out boat of a car, plows through a red light, swerves to miss the man in the red coat walking through the intersection, and slams into the back end of a delivery truck. Baked goods go flying into air and all eyes are on the grandma in the grey Buick barreling towards a collision with the delivery truck and the wrecked, rust heap of a car. And now, when I tell you that time slows down, you think you understand, but you cannot even come close to comprehending how it is now that I can walk between two cars on a collision course, turn, ever so slightly, the wheel of the grandma's Buick, and pluck a bag of frozen baguettes from midair.