Jeremy was here Dec. 22-Jan. 12, during which time we celebrated Christmas several times over, jumped into a freezing cold lake, and went skiing. Photographic evidence follows ...
The Polar Plunge is a Richart family tradition. Every year, folks from all over Nebraska drive in to either jump into the frigid waters, or to smirk at those who do from the comfort of their warm, dry clothes. But before people can plunge, the Richart men have to cut a hole in the ice. This year, it was nine inches thick, and required the help of a chainsaw.
The Polar Plunge is a Richart family tradition. Every year, folks from all over Nebraska drive in to either jump into the frigid waters, or to smirk at those who do from the comfort of their warm, dry clothes. But before people can plunge, the Richart men have to cut a hole in the ice. This year, it was nine inches thick, and required the help of a chainsaw.
Richart family and friends gather on the big day, ready to jump.
I was there too ...
I jumped ... and have never been so cold in my life!
And of course, there were presents.
Grandpa Richart got a hat with a built-in flashlight; very handy.
And there were many rousing rounds of Bananagram (an excellent game which I have recently located at my local A.C. Moore!)
Then Jeremy and I spent a few days skiing at Timberline in West Virginia. We had a very cozy condo right behind one of the ski lifts.
I skiied.
Jeremy snowboarded.
He did some of this, too.
And there was this bra tree. Weird.
Meanwhile, back at the Herbst ranch, Pop decided it was time my brothers learned to tie their own ties.
And then we took a few photos.
Merry Christmas!
