Cindy Hval

Each week the Mount Spokane Nordic Ski Area swarms with skiers of all ages and abilities. From toddlers to seniors, from beginners to competitive champions, cross-country skiing is an inclusive sport. For more than 25 years, Spokane Parks and Recreation Department has sponsored a cross-country ski program for children and adults 12 years and older with developmental disabilities. Staffed by volunteers, the program operates in cooperation with Mount Spokane Nordic Ski Area.

This is a first and most likely a last. This is a column about fashion – something I am woefully unqualified to write about. But since when have I let qualifications or expertise get in the way of a column? Seriously, my fashion goal consists of getting out of the door each morning wearing matching shoes. If I remember socks or pantyhose, it’s a bonus.

So here I am, home sick with the flu – too bleary-eyed to read, not enough energy to do anything useful and drifting off frequently into unintended naps. But I have managed to stumble upon the landscape of daytime television. Wow. No, I’m not warming up for a diatribe about the vast wasteland that is daytime TV, but what is coming is a loud lament at the state of language and grammar as reflected on the tube. If it’s bad out there on the street, which it is, it’s certainly going to be bad on TV. I just didn’t realize how bad.

When Enrique Henao returns to Spokane on Feb. 18 to play for the Children of Northwest Ghana Benefit Concert, it will be a homecoming of sorts. Though born in Colombia, Henao graduated from University High School in 1970. While he currently resides in Edmonds, Wash., he recently attended his 40th class reunion, and said, “Spokane is my second home.”

He seemed earnest and sincere. Big brown eyes peered at me beneath dark bangs that needed a trim. His relatively clean black and white plaid coat matched his black jeans and Converse tennis shoes. “Excuse me, ma’am,” he said. “Do you have a dollar or two to spare, so I can buy gas?” One hand gestured toward the nearby gas pumps and the other hand clenched a fistful of quarters.

Bob Snell knows how to seize a moment. In December 1946, he and a friend attended a dance at the Half Moon Grange and he spotted Dee Brooks. “She was with another guy,” recalled Bob.

Last Sunday, 11-year-old Sam and I cuddled on the couch perusing the newspaper. The morning sunlight streamed through the window behind us. Sam sat up, stretched and craned his neck looking at the back of my head. He frowned. “Uh oh,” he said. “Gray hair – lots of it.”

Eighteen can be an exciting age. Many young people anticipate attending college, while others plan to work or join the military. And most are eager to move out from under their parents’ wings and try to fly on their own. But for teens aging out of the foster care system, turning 18 can be frightening. Bridget Cannon, director of youth services at Volunteers of America, said, “Statistically, the majority end up homeless.”

If you believe the world is divided between dog-lovers and cat-lovers, meet Bill Jones. Nine years ago a calico cat named Jasmine joined his family. “I’ve been an avowed cat-hater my whole life,” said Jones.

Glen and Mary Green met in the summer of 1939, but not many photos remain to document a love affair that has spanned 70 years and counting. “I didn’t know we were going to live this long,” joked Mary, 88. “I gave all our pictures away!” But one black and white snapshot reveals the adventurous spirit shared by the couple. In the photo, they’re astride a ’30s era Harley-Davidson. Glen sports a leather jacket and sunglasses while Mary wears an aviator cap with flaps, and goggles perched atop her head. Behind Mary a bedroll rests on the bike’s fender. The photo was snapped right before the two set off on one of their many road trips.

I don’t like change. It’s hard for me to let go of the familiar and embrace something new. Perhaps that’s why New Year’s Eve has always been my least favorite holiday. In addition, there’s often so much pressure to see the old year out in a spectacular way. That hasn’t always worked out well for me.

Bonnie Shaw first saw him in the hallway at Central Valley High School. Six decades later, her eyes still sparkle at the memory. Harvey Shaw, home on leave, had stopped by his old school to visit his brother and sister. His sweet smile drew her eyes and set him apart from the throngs of teenage boys. Despite his military service Harvey was just a boy himself. “I got stupid and quit school,” he recalled. “I just didn’t think. A few months later, I was in the Navy.”

A new year often marks fresh beginnings or serves as an impetus to act on long-held dreams. For some residents, 2011 will be the year to launch a new business. Budding entrepreneurs can find practical help and seasoned advice from the folks at SCORE Spokane. Since 1973, the organization has helped would-be business owners turn their ideas into industry. Staffed primarily by volunteers, SCORE is a nonprofit resource partner of the U.S. Small Business Administration.

A new year often marks fresh beginnings or serves as an impetus to act on long-held dreams. For some residents, 2011 will be the year to launch a new business. Budding entrepreneurs can find practical help and seasoned advice from the folks at SCORE Spokane. Since 1973, the organization has helped would-be business owners turn their ideas into industry. Staffed primarily by volunteers, SCORE is a nonprofit resource partner of the U.S. Small Business Administration.

They arrived at 10:30 p.m., which is a bit late for guests. I opened the door and a gust of chill winter wind swept through the entryway. Somewhat self-consciously, I read a prepared speech: “Hello and welcome archangels to our home.” My husband shook his head and the cat slipped out through the partially opened door. After herding Milo back inside, I found myself at a loss. I’ve never spoken to one angel before, let alone hosted five of them.

He rang in the morning. He rang at night. He rang in the sunshine. He rang in the snow. For 36 hours, Salvation Army Corps Capt. Kyle Smith stood by his red kettle and rang his bell. By doing so, he shattered the previous world bell-ringing record of 30.5 hours. Smith took his post at 5 a.m. Friday in front of the Northpointe Walmart store and didn’t leave until 5 p.m. Saturday. He borrowed his 12-year-old son’s insulated boots and spread a carpet remnant next to the kettle to provide warmth and cushion for his feet from the cold concrete.

Though many residents are counting the days until Christmas, one group has already celebrated the new year. On Dec. 4, the Spokane Hmong Association hosted a traditional new year party featuring colorful garb and plentiful food. Unlike the Western new year, the Hmong people have no set calendar date for the celebration. Vang Xiong, of the Spokane Hmong Association, said because their ancestors were farmers, the festivities were usually held after the crops had been harvested; the date varied from region to region.

The lilting sound of an angel chorus filtered through Westminster Congregational Church on a recent Wednesday evening. By following the echoes up staircases and down hallways a visitor opened a door to discover the beautiful music came from a group of small children. The Spokane Area Children’s Chorus Preparatory Choir was hard at work rehearsing for a spate of holiday concerts. Since 1987, SACC, and its six choirs, has offered budding vocalists ages 7 to 18, professional caliber musical instruction and given them a place to shine. Artistic director Kristina Ploeger said, “Our goal is to teach (students) the skills they need to enable them to enjoy lifelong music.”