Monday – cold and cloudy
Kids are up before crack o sparrows. Jasper full of beans.
Early morning commute.
I set off for a spring skiing day. What a cock up decision wearing my spring skiing gear, it was colder than a witches titty in a brass bra doing push ups in the snow. Snow’s in great condition with the cold. flat light makes skiing interesting. Get 8 runs in and a coffee before quitting, I’m freezing to death.
Quiet afternoon as the rest of them are out shopping. Oh how sorry I am to miss it.
Fiona manages to demolish a bottle of Zinfandel with some help from me. Well it’d be a sin to have someone drink on their own.
Tuesday – hot and sunny
Jasper makes his debut this season.
Up and out early for the kids first day skiing. Luxury drive up, complete with all Jaspers ski gear.
Have a few runs. Kurt goes off for a more challenging run. I ski with Fiona, and no she’s not forgotten how to ski. Move onto the blue runs and she’s doing fine, a star pupil. Bump into George and Helen so Kurt goes off with George while Helen joins Fiona and I. Have a good mornings skiing. Fiona’s doing great and really bombing down all them blues.
Family ski day.
Jasper gets geared up and makes his debut on the nursery slope. Gets a few runs in before chocolate and ice cream rewards to ensure he’s motivated. He loves it. Skis between his dad’s legs which is murder on your back.
2 year old downhill racer. The next generation.
Home for coffee then nip down to Walmart to buy Jasper a potty. Only choice is big pink one, but he seems to like it, and soon christens it to great applause.
Early night all round everyone’s knackerred apart from Wendy.
Wednesday – cold and sunny
https://www.facebook.com/tony.w.edwards/posts/10156673177260249:1?pnref=story
Well it was Super Tuesday – 11 states vote for their candidate – and the bafoon now seems to be certain of the Republican nomination. We certainly live in interesting times in England we have that red commy Corbyn and here they have Trump. Ok America, a joke’s a joke but it’s gone too far now and it’s getting scary. Please stop.
My star pupil.
Catch Silver Load back to summit and the disaster strikes yet again. Getting off the lift and women next to me somehow manages to stomp on my right ski. I’m spun round and end upside down under the chair, legs akimbo like a women in birthing stirrups. In agony from right femur, yes the dodgy one. Lift stops lift and takes my skis off. I manage to crawl out of the way. Meanwhile women and the other 4 witches of Los Anglas look on, never even have the courtesy to apologise.
Jasper on the magic carpet.
Check into clinic at bottom. Produce credit card. Get X rayed. Doctor is confused with the mess of new bone growth at top of my femur. Looks like I’ve got a partial spiral fracture of the femur. Oh joy. My piece of meccano seems to have stopped a complete break. Ironic if I hadn’t had the meccano in place from last year it might have been much worse.
Jasper makes his toy pizza.
Bugger, bugger, bugger. It’s bad enough, but at least if I’d been skiing and it was down to my lack of skill, it would somehow be better. To have it happen through no fault of your own is infuriating. Dam the 5 witches of Los Angeles.
After 50 weeks of hard slog I’m back to square one. On crutches. No pain when static, just when I move.
Having made his pizza he disappears into the kitchen to put it into microwave. Smart cookie.
Oh well shit happens.
Helen and George come round for dinner. Already the jungle drums have been sounding and most of our ski club friends know about it.
Spicy nachos – courtesy of Hal’s recipe – for starters.