Moments of Saturday Joy. . .

Increasingly, I am convinced that if more people in the world met on cross-country skis, more of us could get along pleasantly more of the time.

The activity exercises every major muscle group in the human body. Next to swimming, cross-country skiing has been found to be the best for of exercise there is. It is also something that you work to perfect continuously at your own pace, making the sport whatever you want it to be. An easy stroll with an occasional "schoosh" down a hill, or a more grueling jaunt at speed uphill and over dale.

But back to the point of the post.

Today on the trails during almost four hours of skiing, I met happy and friendly groups of skiers from Germany, France, Russia, China, Japan, and India plus a couple whose language I could not quite place although the husband and I spoke in English for a few minutes at the fire pit near the rental shop and warming hut. And even an African-American family skiing in amongst everyone else.

The five guys from India, in particular, were really fun. I passed them several times, and while they were very clumsy new skiers, and not quite dressed right for winter sports, they were happy and having a ball out in the snow with one even filming a race down a long hill between two of his buddies with his phone. You could not help but smile and offer words of encouragement as the one careened down the track on the left to the bottom, managing to remain upright all the way, while his friend wiped out a quarter of the way down on the right.

Happiness and fun are infectious. They cannot help but make others feel equally good. And it is certainly nice to observe in others as you go about your day.

Years ago, one of my Norwegian roommates in Trondheim, a very funny guy named Magnus, advised that you must always say a friendly hello to people you meet on the ski trails. Probably one of the best pieces of advice he gave me during our time living together, and a habit I have cultivated ever since.

A friendly hello almost never fails to elicit a kind greeting in response and maybe a brief chat as you glide by one another, or stop to catch your breath and take a drink from the water bottle before each continuing on your respective ways.

Imagine if we could get European, American, Russian, and Ukrainian leaders skiing together on the trail somewhere. It could diffuse the currently tense situation in the Ukraine.

Cross-country skiing diplomacy. You might think it sounds like a hair-brained idea, but there might just be something to it.

-- Heinz-Ulrich

Comments

Up North Style. . .

Bad Dad makes a friend. YMP and Bad Dad on the shores of Lake Michigan. Or was that Crystal Lake? The Grand Duchess takes a selfie in her kayak. How NOT to impress the girls sunning themselves along the river. YMP and Bad Dad kayaking on the Platte River headed toward Loon Lake. J ust back from a week in Northern Michigan in a charming and spacious house on the banks of the Betsie River outside of Thompsonville. A largely pleasant seven days despite some challenging episodes with the Young Master, who has picked up some very questionable habits and language from his friends in the 8th Grade during the school year just ended. But otherwise, we enjoyed ourselves and contemplated remaining for a few days longer since the house was available. In the end, we decided to return home as planned originally since neither my wife, nor I wanted to spend the remaining days chained to our computers in Zoom meetings from our vacation destination. I actually managed to leave the laptop and ip

Mid-June Thursday Style. . .

A nother pretty typical variation on the theme for late spring, summer, and very early fall. I'm a huge fan of Madras and have several such shirts in the seasonal rotation. Lightweight, exceedingly comfortable, and even dressy when pressed and tucked in, which is the usual way of things here at Totleigh in the Wold. Now, if I had my druthers, I'd still rather be skiing the trails in the upper half of "The Mitten" (of Michigan), in the Upper Peninsula, or Ontario. But summers ain't so bad either, and I'd look pretty funny walking around in cross-country ski attire during June. -- Heinz-Ulrich

A Lazy Saturday at the End of June. . .

A sleepy first half of the weekend here at Totleigh. Warmer and quite humid ahead of an approaching cool front here in Mid-Michigan. Perfect for yet another pair of chino shorts an a seersucker shirt -- tucked in of course -- with the usual leather deck shoes and ribbon belt. Otherwise, not much accomplished beyond a page or so of writing and monkeying around with audio settings for an upcoming podcast episode. However, I was not completely useless yesterday! I made a huge fruit salad for dinner, which the Grand Duchess and I enjoyed a short while later at the table on the back porch. The Young Master, as is his wont on Saturday evenings, took his dinner on a tray in the TV room upstairs where he whiled away a couple of hours on Flight Simulator, flying some sort of commercial airliner to some destination across the Atlantic or Pacific. I would have loved that sort of technology at about nine or 10 way back during the late 1970s, aka The Stone Age. As it is, my sister and

Classic Style

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