Skiing was fantastic. I so hope that wasn't the last this season, though mid-March we're stretching our luck hoping for the snow to last. Twice down Gold Hills what a rush! So I have to tell you about T. At 5 and a half the kid is steady on his skis but last time we were up there we had quite the moment with him. Having decided that he really can ski now we decided to take away the reins. All went well. A beautiful day, sun, snow, friends waiting for us at the Campbell Basin Lodge. T got dressed, no fussing getting out of the car. At the top of Forest Queen he lost it and would not ski down. "I'm not skiing", "I want to be on my own", "Just leave me here". We skied down a little way hoping that would encourage him to follow but no. In the end R had to ski down to the lift, get back to the top and then carry a screaming kicking kid down the hill. Obviously time for a ski lesson.
So back to last Sunday. T can now ski down Forest Queen...and Gold Hills in fact anything, doesn't matter if it's green or blue, smooth or bumpy. I asked him what the instructor had shown him....apparently nothing. Money well spent?
Running, I'm back in! Despite a sore throat last night I managed to peel myself out of bed in the morning for my usual 6 miler 'to Meadowbrook and back'. Around 75th and 40th there is a bus shelter and most mornings as I run past there an old crumpled up man with a flat cap yells out 'Good Morning'. Quite startling the first few times but now I look for the bent-over figure at the bus stop around 6am, did I say it's still dark at that time? Whenever he isn't there I have the awful thought that he must have died. Dramatic I know but he's old and it's dark.
He wasn't there this morning.
About 50 yards further on a loud voice yelled at me from the other side of the road 'Good morning'. After the fright wore off I realised it was crumply man, yelled a response and continued to lumber up the hill, happy that he's still okay.
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