Big Bear

Pam and I are, right now, relaxing at the Honeymoon Hideaway cabin in Big Bear.

You may never hear from us again.

No, we didn't elope or anything like that. It's just the name of the cabin, and a strange name at that. Two beds, ten feet away from each other? In a "honeymoon hideaway"? A painting of sad puppies on the wall? A sign on the front door that says "If heaven ain't got fish, then I ain't goin'!"? In a honeymoon hideaway? And a hot tub that is easily viewable by the neighbors? Well, if people WERE here on their honeymoon, hidin' wouldn't be such an easy task.

Getting here alive wouldn't be so easy either. Despite the fact that it isn't snowing and hasn't snowed here for at least a week and was sunny all day today, our particular street is super, SUPER icy and our narrow driveway is bordered by two-foot snowbanks (I may have run into them, once or twice, as I backed in). And I don't know how we're going to pull out of here tomorrow morning, up that slippery driveway at a 5 degree incline. We may have to actually put on chains just to escape.

Perhaps THAT is why it's called the Honeymoon Hideaway--our frozen corpses will be hidden until the spring thaw.