#2 First day of skiing.

Mother woke me up this morning, 40 minutes after I rolled over, switched my alarm off, and went back to sleep, and informed me of the ‘wonderful view’. I wasn’t too bothered about this, but I thought it would be nice to humour her, especially since I was already late. I sat up, looked outside, and exclaimed ‘Bloody hell!’. I felt like I was living in a postcard, it was that picturesque.

I’ve literally just come back from the first day of skiing; I am in so much pain. My boots were so tight I felt like I was a traditional Japanese woman. That was the only real complaint. My muscles and joints ache slightly, but nothing too bad. On the slopes today, I stopped to wait for Mum, when I saw her talking to 3 people who were looking at a rock that was tumbling towards her, which she then proceeded to try and pick up. Already annoyed at her for being insanely slow, I shouted loudly (in my head) that whatever she was trying to pick up for the French people was not her problem! Then it came tumbling towards me. Joy. I looked up at mum with an exasperated expression as she squealed and pointed at the ground near my feet. The ‘rock’ was rolling towards me. As it came closer, I realised, that it was a brown, furry snow rodent. I took my glove off and picked it up. It looked like a very hairy baby mouse. I skied down to Dad, with this ‘marmot’ scrabbling about in my hand, showed him, took a picture, and then set it free.

Ella is currently at her children’s club, and I’m going to get her shortly, and I’m going to be owning her ass in a snowball fight.

Wipeout Count: 0