A Snow Bunny Survives
This here house is where I stayed last weekend. It is close to some mountains, and not much else. All around us were snow-covered fields, and winding roads, and a big sky with visible stars. I didn't hardly miss sky-scrapers at all.
The place was decorated in a most unusual fashion. If you are feeling nice, you could say "eclectic." Otherwise, you could call it "weirdzies." (And you'd be right.)
I was traveling with a big group of hilarious people. The kind of people who just might purchase snowflake sweaters at the Salvation Army and wear them ironically to dinner one night. The kind of people who might try to scare one another with a freaky-deaky doll found in the living room. The kind of people who enjoy trash-talking Canada, and the kind of Canadian people who can trash-talk right back. The kind of people who made me laugh. A lot.
I learned to ski, which was fun. But also scary. Sometimes I'd make it all the way down the hill without falling! But other times I would fall. Sometimes spectacularly (I've got the battle bruises to prove it).
Occasionally I said curse words as I zoomed over icy patches, 'cause holymoly and knightsofcolumbus, I was going *fast*! But CJL coached me off the chair lift, and SBG coaxed me down the hill, and my fellow beginning skier, T-Bone, gave me the freedom to fail. Because if you don't have the freedom to fail, then you have nothing...am I right, T-Bone?
Sunday was the dreaded holiday but I survived that in the same way I survived the ski slopes: laughing with friends. Sharing lifts up the mountain, and high-fives at the bottom of it. Eating meals around a big table, making cups of coffee to stay warm.
Oh yeah, and I got by with a little help from beignets. Dozens and dozens and dozens of home-made beignets.
There were horses on the premises of our rental house. This guy's name was Nugget. He gave us knowing looks each morning as we headed off to the slopes, and he greeted us each evening when we returned to make soup and watch the Olympics. And wear snowflake sweaters. And laugh at the freaky-deaky doll in the living room, who we worried might come to life (ala Child's Play) and terrorize us at 3:30 in the morning.
But luckily the doll didn't come to life. Luckily we survived. I survived! And I had a wonderful weekend.