after i got back from the ski tour, i watched "The Shining" in my film class (the meaning behind the movie is absolutely unbelievable. i suggest you take a second look at it if you haven't figured out that it isn't just about some guy and his family), was assigned Second Assistant Director (SAD) in my film making class (it's funny because the teacher abbreviates my name by writing USA, so on the board of assignments it said "SAD: USA"), and ate the chocolate cake pictured above.

the next day i went skiing in the same location, only the sun was out and i went on a course, and not some path that led into the woods.

just skiing around.

a husband and wife, about 70 years old, skiing faster than i'll ever be able to ski. the woman stopped and talked to me a little while, found out i was American, and then took off again. as i was getting on the school's bus to leave, she skied up to me and we talked some more. she is going to Italy in a couple of weeks to ski and needs to practice. she was very sweet and i'd like to see her again. i asked a teacher who she was, and he responded with something that translates to, "she's not a typical Surnadal woman", meaning, she is unusually outgoing. the people of Surnadal aren't likely to look at someone they've never met before, let alone talk to him.

the most amazing skiing invention ever. there was a big machine that drove around and created two paths the perfect size for skies by scraping indents into the snow as it went along. i was mighty impressed.

fog in the valley.

it's snowing.

the morning of the over night ski trip.

ok, do you see the sides of the ski path? i'd say the snow was 6 or so inches up from my skis. however, the second you stepped off the skies and into the snow with your foot, this happened:those are the tops of my knees that you see. as you can imagine, i was very happy i had bought gaiters the day before.

we skied in a single filed line. one person led for as long as he could, and then fell to the back of the line while the new leader made a path through the snow. you couldn't go very far before you were exhausted and had to let the next person take over. this task would have been impossible without, i don't know the word in English, skifeller. it's a strip of cloth that you attach to the bottom of the ski to create more friction.

sorry about the mitten in the lens; the outside layer was just too bulky to take pictures with, but you would regret taking it off even for a second.

trudging through the snow.

when i and two other girls got to our camping spot, the ski and area looked like this. it was getting dark, so we had to work quickly to make our tent.

we had to walk around with our skis on doing what reminded me of grape squashing to the snow. it we hadn't, the snow would have given in, the tent would never have been built, and it would have been a much more miserable night.

as lame as it may sound, it was too cold to build a fire. we would have had to set up a place by stopping in the snow, somehow keep the fire supported from melting deeper into the snow and going out, and sit outside and tend to it. after the tent was built, we took turns getting settled into our sleeping bags while the other two waited outside. we read for 30 minutes or so, and then fell asleep. i had to get out once to pee, but that is all one would dare to get out of his sleeping bag for.

deep snow. going back was much easier and quicker because we had already made a path to follow. it took about 5 hours to get to our camping spot, and one our to get back the next day.

i stuck my ski pole down in the snow and took a picture. that hole is probably a foot and a half deep. i know i wrote a lot about the depth of the snow, but coming from a place where occasioanally there is no snow on X-mas, it was all incredible to me.

skiing back to the road. this is the last part of the return trip. this hill was much steeper at the top and curved around behind the trees. yes, i fell.

same place, but the tracks are more vivid in this pictures.

a really nice view of a valley. it's such a shame that everything looks darker in the pictures, even after you brighten them.

Martha and i got the wonderful opportunity to switch to a bigger and better room in the other building. here is a picture story of the room. the sink area before we took everything over.

empty.

the shelves before. after. our teeny, tiny closet before

our empty closet.

the wall before.

the empty wall. i started to get really sad when i saw this wall, because it was the part everyone liked the best. i had grandma's doilies up, and Martha had pictures up beautiful portraits of people we admire at the school. plus, the only thing left to take over to the other room was our bedding. i wanted to spend one last night in the room, partly because i was getting sad about moving, but mostly because i was exhausted and didn't want to fuss over setting things up in the other room. completely empty.

the new room. my bed.

Martha's bed.

our new closets. being 3/4 of the total clost, can you believe we possibley shoeved all of our stuff into that something more than half that size? i knew our old room wasn't big enough.

in inadequate picute of the room from the door way. and most importantly, the new view.

after the move, we were just able to relax because of our greatly improved living situation. we can sleep at night because the door actually blocks sound, our neighbors are respectful, and we have space to live in. it's grand.