Lorikeets were hungry and eager.

Kids were happy.

Right on the twenty sixth of December, we had set out in the direction of San Diego. We were worried a bit how we'd handle such distance in one stretch, but it went very well. The kids got Harry Potter on CD for Christmas and surprisingly the read book had captivated the whole crew. Juniors behaved, did not argue, and it was fun to drive listening to the story.

Pavlíčeks had gotten themselves a pool table in their living room, which took care of our evening program. It needs to be said that Adam kept beating us so overwhelmingly that we had to handicap him by imposing a requirement: he had to hit the balls by bouncing them off the walls.

Péťa had to go to work on Thursday, and Adam, Luky and Veronika accompanied us to the Safari. Since the boys had gotten up sometimes around six o'clock and Adam had found out that the ZOO was opening already by nine, we were among the first visitors there. We had entered the cage where you can feed lorikeets still while the birdies were hungry and eager, so we did not have to convince them much. The kids were in seventh heaven and competed who got more parrots attacking.

Kids formed a pack.

Safari includes a succulent botanic garden.

We got to the train that one takes to ride through the safari valley, practically without waiting. The whole garden surprised us as very nice — the animals fare obviously much better in a larger space, and so we saw incredible things — cat-fighting tigers, antelopes resting in a protective circle, roaming rhinos. The tigers impressed me as being in a great condition, none of the fat, lazy cat variety with a hanging belly, slugging along the edge of a cage, but frisky, playful predators running up and down inside a huge run.

Our tickets to SeaWorldu, which we had bought in April, were still valid, and so we chose to once again see this attraction. Sid took the boys to the roller-coaster, Péťa and I had refused, Lisa and Verunka would probably not meet the height limit. Having noticed people riding by, hanging upside down, did not motivate me even a bit, and so I rather spent those twenty minutes at a ray pool. The rays were quite daring, let people pet them, and splashed them back near the edge — they are used to people feeding them with small fish.

The only two specimen of hippos at this safari.

Pilot whales at SeaWorld.

Lisa wanted to see a dolphin show, and we submitted. Since spring they had added pilot whales, at least something new; we refused to see the other, killer whale show. Somehow after the safari, SeaWorld seemed a much more shallow entertainment, compounded by crazy crowds, at level when people seem able to stampede — simply nothing for us. I think we shall skip SeaWorld next time.

We took off from SeaWorld directly home. We were counting on overnighting in Tehachapi, but we got there by six o'clock, so we just had a Vietnamese soup and reached home even before midnight. Much credit of the fact that we could manage such a long ride, goes to Harry Potter — the kids lasted all eight hours sitting without fighting and poking and begging for a tablet or candy.

A lunch with friends.

Pavel and the kids are being bored while waiting for the fireworks.

We gave ourselves one day to recover at home, and on Sunday set out again to Kirkwood. Packing and loading was somewhat hectic — I had planned to stay with the children there for the whole week, thus we were taking along a heap of food and things, and we had stuffed Slávek in the back seat between our kids, which meant packing along a guitar as well.

A lot of snow had fallen over Christmas, and skiing was perfect. We were also looking forward to the traditional New Year's Eve celebration, but we got ambiguous information from the resort employees in regard to when is should start. A torch run was planned for six, six thirty or eight, similarly the fireworks. Beginning at six o'clock, we kept sending out kids to check whether torch-carriers were getting on the lift. Eventually Tom reported that a bunch of people was clustering there, so we dressed up and went. Unlike on previous years, it was freezing cold outside, and waiting for the torch run consisted mostly of stomping feet of the older generation. Younger participants of the expedition and Pavel were warming themselves by horsing around (for which we were grateful to Pavel).

Our reinforcement - guitarist Slávek.

With Vendula on Olympic.

Usually after the torch-runners, a fireworks follows. Alas, Kirkwood had been bought by Vail, and a corporative circus ensued instead. I would have tolerated the fact that they had inserted a fire breathers' show between the torch run and the fireworks (but honestly, if those girls were squirming around with some music, it would have made more sense than this way, in silence), but why there had to be another half hour of celebratory speeches of good-old-boy-club functionaries, with horrible acoustic, whom we could not understand while they padded each other's backs?

When we had been standing outdoors for over an hour, I started to feel that my feet would get frost-bitten despite all my stomping, Tom bothered that he was thirsty, and Hippo generally grumbled, while the resort plaza happening reminded of a badly attended regional political party election campaign. Subversive elements sometimes shouted, "We want fireworks!", the more courageous (or *spirited*?) yelled, "Shut up already!", but even these miniature mutinies died out and we had concluded that we would not wait any longer.

A foxhole behind the "cottage".

Lisa's room.

On our way back to the "cottage" we had seen lots of folks who were leaving the plaza disgusted, hence I would say that Vail did not impress much. We had watched the eventual fireworks from behind the "cottage", after we had defrosted first and noticed the booms outside. Still the bad after-taste about Vail lingered. Yes, they had added safety rails on the lift seats, which I appreciate, being a mother. But that had been so far the only improvement. The prices had shot up incredibly — we're find this year, having bought season passes early, but the following year won't be fun. New resort employees had shown up in meaningless functions — e.g. a representative blonde who's only duty is to welcome everybody to Kirkwood, would be much better utilized in checking toilets, re-stocking rolls of tissues and stacks of napkins (it did not use to happen during previous years that I would have noting to wipe myself off with). Besides that one welcoming sentence, she has not been able to give any other information — such as which runs are groomed or which lifts are operating.

Tom's room.

An expedition to the beach.

Passes with RFID seemed an improvement until big crowds showed up. It's nice that one does not carry the pass on top of clothing, and you don't have to search for it, pull it out, push it back in and worry that it gets dropped and lost somewhere. But the ticket checkers don't keep up with everybody trying to get on the lift, and they force the crowds to weave in complicated mazes, while empty seats run up the line. Replacing the former ten percent discount in resort-operated shopping for season pass holders, Veil had introduced an eight percent "resort surcharge" (and merchandise prices were never moderate to start with). Well, and the last hard-to-swallow bitter pill is a ordinance forbidding us to park our cars in the street overnight. We often drive to the "cottage" with two cars, and the condo has only one alloted parking slot — theoretically, we may park the other car at the other end of Kirkwood — some mile and half from our lodging. Simply one harassment over another, turning a relaxed location for family-friendly ski enthusiasts into a unnerving ski center full of angry, frustrated faces.

Guys left on New Year afternoon (Hippo, Pavel and Slávek), to get back into their respective work process, while Vendula and the rest of us stayed until next weekend. We skied during the day, played cards in the evening, and tried to remember game rules of our youth. I tried to go out cross-country skiing, even managed to go twice one day — when the kids did not want to go on the slopes in the morning and instead dug a snowy fox-hole. I think, however, that withing a week there they started feeling a cabin fever, and I had to deal with incessant poking, getting angry, harassment, and back-talking. If there's one thing they miss in the mountains, it's friends. I had tried to invite them company, but those who let me talk them into it, eventually cancel in the last moment; it's been hard.

Kids got wet at the creek.

Once upon the time in the West.

A demanding week awaited me at home. Lisa insisted that she would remain moved out of hitherto shared kids' bedroom, and it came to a complete re-arrangement of things. I had to empty former Granny's room, which still contained in part Granny's stuff and part things that I had found convenient to just store there. Moving Lisa's stuff in followed, an disbanding the kids' desks in our family room. Finally it seems that I may get a LIVING ROOM, instead of an office/playroom combo. The old shared kids' room would not take the desks; for the first few years of school I found it practical to be able to supervise them together. Now they have reached the stage when they more interfere with than help each other, and moving the desks into their respective rooms solves possible conflicts. Well, it's done, only a few small things remain, like figuring out where to place guests — from now on, they won't have a room for themselves, but may crash in the living room — and going through and subsequently throwing out most accumulated stuff, which now piles in the office and the garage.

On January ten, Slávek's family had finally moved into our Valley; we hope thus to expand our circle of friends with children. Samík is only three years old, Ríša is six, but they seem to agree well with our family. So do Slávek and Regina. On our obligatory trip to the coast, they were quite able to cope when a small wave washed over them, up to their knees. Their boys happily ate at our favorite Thai place, hence we should be compatible in the important aspects.