Kind Of Like the Griswolds, Except With Snow

There's plenty that's unpleasant about being a grown up. Income taxes and colonoscopies come to mind.

But adulthood has its benefits, too. Chief among them being no more recess and PE. I spent the first 17 years of my life trying to figure out creative ways to avoid showing my peers that I have the coordination of a drunk hippo on stilts. If it involves climbing, I will fall. If it involves water, I will sink. If it involves a ball, I will not only miss it, but I will position myself perfectly so that it smacks me in the forehead.

It's okay. I know this about myself. I faked it when I had to as a kid–just ask my dad about the Great Basketball Experiment of 1983. I still run into doorways and trip over grocery carts more than the average bear, but as a grown up, I've managed to tuck away my former humiliation quite neatly, thanks.

Until my athletic husband decided to plan a ski trip for the holidays. He's been talking about it for years–he loved to ski in college, and he had such a nice vision of our entire family shooshing happily down the slopes, eyes bright and faces flushed with joy. My vision of a ski trip involves ambulances, but I decided to be a good sport. 

We left Christmas morning, in the aftermath of a blizzard (the universe was trying to give me a hint). We made it safely to a small resort about an hour from Denver, checked in, unpacked, and began organizing a dizzying assortment of ski gear and supplies. (Including, by the way, the stuff you smear inside your goggles to keep them from fogging–it's called, to the  great joy of my sons, Cat Crap.)

The next morning, after my breakfast of oatmeal sprinkled with Aleve, we dropped off our happy, agile children at the kids' ski school. Hubs shooshed and I lumbered out to the place where our class would begin.  

A friendly older man with silver hair shooshed up and introduced himself as our instructor. He lined up our class and asked us to introduce ourselves by explaining what kind of athletic experience we have.

(Great.)

When it was my turn, I mumbled a response that had something to do with stairs and laundry baskets.

(Somebody get me out of here, please.)

When the introductions of all my fellow (athletic) classmates were over, the instructor went on to explain that he's a retired high school principal, so if we don't do what he says, we're going to detention.

(No, I'm serious, somebody get me out of here right now.)

He began by explaining the basics, and he said the key not to falling is knowing how to turn.

(Really? Because I think the key to not falling is staying in the lodge, but what do I know?)

It's simple, he said, just lean here and push there and tilt this but don't tilt that and keep your chin up and put your arms out there and then lean here again. 

Alrighty.

We got started on a hill with the incline of a pimple. Our whole class gently coasted where they were supposed to coast. Well, almost the whole class. I made my first run down the pimple, and I stayed vertical for a solid seven seconds. Aaaaand then I fell. So I tried a second time. Aaaaand then I fell. Same with efforts number three and four. And five and six.

Fighting back tears of utter humiliation, I kept at it. The instructor explained that I probably wasn't cut out for this particular turning technique, so he was just going to advance me on to the next one, because he just knew it was perfect for me.

(Oh, don't you try your high-school-principal-self-esteem-inducing mind games with me, fella.)

Not surprisingly, the new and improved trick didn't work for me. The only stopping/turning technique that did work was the one I believe they call Hurling Your Body To The Ground. After two hours of falling every time I tried, I stopped to catch my breath at the bottom of the pimple. I thought about giving up. I looked over to where the kids were in ski school, and I could see my children actually beginning to shoosh with confidence and grace. I was so proud of them, and I thought some very lofty thoughts about perseverance and humility. I climbed back up for one last try.

Aaaaand then I fell–spectacularly, this time, with a flying ski pole involved. I muttered something under my breath that may or may not have been worse than "Cat Crap".

I told the instructor that some people just weren't meant to ski, and his mouth said "No, you can do it, just keep trying," but his eyes said, "Yes ma'am, you're more sit-by-the-fireplace material."

So I headed inside and I did sit by the fireplace, all week long. I had a giant stack of books and a huge bag of crochet supplies. I was a happy pack mule for the endless pile of ski gear (Colorado families, how do you do that all winter long?). I baked cookies and made cheese dip, and we played games and watched movies by the fireplace all evening, every night. It was our best vacation ever, in fact–I don't know when we've laughed together so much. 

The moral of the story? If at first you don't succeed, be sure you've packed a good book and some comfortable shoes, and once you've worked through your adolescent insecurities it'll all work out beautifully in the end.

Especially if there's cheese dip.

The end.

88 thoughts on “Kind Of Like the Griswolds, Except With Snow

  1. Sharon says:

    Oh My Goodness, that made me LAUGH.
    I have a similarly athletic husband. He has a similarly non-athletic wife. But I have discovered the secret of skiing… They let you ride up the sky lift. Aaaaannd then they let your ride back down. Very scenic. Very safe. Very non-athletic. I’ve even done it in flip flops.
    It makes skiing much more enjoyable.

  2. Heather says:

    Growing up in northern California all the cool kids skied and I was determined to do at least one cool thing before I became the boring adult I was destined to be. Never mind that I as athletic as Bill Gates. Well I couldn’t even snow plow so instead I used my butt as a break. Whenever I needed to stop I would just fall backwards. By the end of the day I had a huge purple bruise on my left cheek and a determination to never sky again.

  3. Lisa F says:

    Oh that was funny. And painfully true for more than just you. This is so what happened to me when we last went skiing. Next time I am skipping the outside and just going to start reading a book. Thanks for making me feel a little more normal.

  4. busygirl says:

    This made me laugh hysterically. I’m not very coordinated and remember very CLEARLY the first time that I learned to snowboard. I made friends with a lot of trees.
    About 1,089 falls later I’m able to shoosh downhill looking like I know what I’m doing but still feeling the terror inside that I am most definitely going to pummel that four-year-old in front of me into the ground. I’ve also mastered the flailing arms technique, very complicated.
    Thanks for the good laugh 🙂

  5. Robin says:

    So funny!!! I actually can ski (or could the last time I tried 9 years ago). But the older I get the more I would rather sit by the fireplace knitting or reading. Every time my hubby mentions going skiing, I just think why would I want to be freezing cold on purpose. So let them ski – I’ll join you by the fireplace!

  6. Colleen says:

    Ha! As a fellow Griswold I, too, have a skiing story that ends up with me never skiing again. It involves being dragged by a T-bar halfway up a hill, a bleeding ear, a T-bar operator having to stop the entire ride and a boyfriend watching the entire event unfold.
    Ah. The life of a Griswold. Good times.

  7. Jeannette says:

    I have never skied nor do I desire to learn how. My husband loves it. But I figure if people who are expert skiers can fall and shatter their arms (just happened to a friend of ours) then really, taking in the scenery would be a better option for me. How many people do you know shatter their arms reading or crocheting? So much more sensible! 🙂

  8. Jill says:

    My family skied when I was growing up, we loved it. My husband grew up in Texas and thinks it should be a crime to pay to hurl yourself down on hill on little tiny sticks of wood. Especially in freezing cold temps.
    I’m thinking of taking my kids next year to Colorado and teaching them the “ropes” while my husband is the pack mule with the stuff and books in the Ski Lodge. I’m just hoping my 40 something body can take the abuse.
    Some of my favorite family times were skiing and the evenings we spent back at the house together.

  9. Melene says:

    My first ( and ONLY ) experience skiing was quite similar to yours, except it was in another country. We were in Germany and went to Garmisch. I was just as frustrated as you in our class-and embarrassed! I also couldn’t believe how sore I was the next day! I’m definitely a sit by the fire kind of girl, too. Thanks for sharing your story. Love your writing!

  10. Mrs. Oh says:

    Great post! I too tried to learn to ski on a ‘bunny hill’ which in my defense: was a mountain. I plowed into a group and stopped short of a tree. So I feel your pain 😉

  11. Lisa says:

    I very much resemble your second paragraph and you musn’t forget always being chose last for team sports.
    I have long desired a snow resort vacation where I plan to excel at the following sports: sitting by the fire while reading a book, riding on a horse drawn sleigh, sitting by the fire while knitting, photographing the beautiful snow, sitting by the fire while drinking hot cocoa, shopping in the cute little resort village and occasionally visiting first aid with my children who are about as coordinated as I am…

  12. Kathryn says:

    IF you ever decide to try it again (and I would not blame you if you didn’t), I have two words for you: Snow Blades. I had a similar experience to yours, and while I could never get the hang of skis I was able to do relatively well with the blades. Well enough to get down the hill without crashing. Getting off the ski lift without crashing, that is another story altogether.

  13. McKt says:

    Tell it sister! We went skiing/snowboarding for our honeymoon (what was I thinking we could have been laying on a beach somewhere). At the end of day two when my new husband found me sobbing face down in the snow he promised me we would not have to go up the mountain ever again. I would have married him immediately had we not already been hitched.

  14. Mere says:

    Oh my goodness – try tumbling the entire way down RIGHT under the ski lift and having to retrieve skis and poles with everyone watching. I spent the rest of the trip in the lodge thank you very much.

  15. Krista says:

    Oh dear… 🙂 I started skiing at 13 and the first few attempts were utter humiliation! But I think I might have just a bit more athletic bones in my body. It is fun, but I know it’s not for everyone! My mom’s school goes every year for ski school 5 Friday in a row (yes, we live near a mountain) and there are some teachers that get the Lodge duty because they would much prefer that to being out on the slopes themselves!
    And yes, I’ve had some doozies of falls! Given myself a concussion at least twice, I ski much more sanely now thankyouverymuch! 🙂

  16. edj says:

    Awesome post, Shannon! I have never tried skiing but I applaud your results–I’d love some cheese dip by the fireside in the company of good books 🙂

  17. Linda says:

    Oh sweet girl – thank you for this. I am a champion sit-by-the-fireplace-with-a-book sort of person. As I read through this wonderful post, I had a vision from the past of me standing as far out in the soft ball field as I could, without actually not even being on the field any more, in a desperate attempt to avoid having the ball hit to me. I don’t even want to think about what it was like actually getting up to bat!
    You have brightened my day, and I’m so glad it all ended so happily!

  18. justanotherdayinparadise says:

    My husband talked me into going to Colorado a few years ago. We went to ski school together, and it was 7th-grade-PE horrible. I did awful. At lunch, I couldn’t feel my feet anymore. Turns out, I was wearing the wrong size boots. Moral of the story? I’m still a horrible skiier, but it’s because I learned how using ski boots 3 sizes too small. : )

  19. beckyk says:

    Awesome! You are me!! I tried when I was nimbler younger self and my super generous boss at Chick-fil-A would take us all skiiing each year. I was the first to fall down and last to get up in ski school – I shuffled down the hill, stomped into the lodge and spent that and the next years enjoying a roaring fire and watching my friends get wet and tired. 😉

  20. k_stin says:

    My kind of athlete! I had the same PE experiences as you and I have only gone skiing once. I was 16 then, and these little kids were telling me how to ski. So…now, reading is my favorite sport, too. I like your adage, “If at first you don’t succeed, be sure you brought a good book.” I might just steal that.

  21. Kelly says:

    Oh my gosh, you are describing my one and only ski trip, too. I relived the horror in my mind. My husband had been so excited about taking me skiing because his entire family grew up going to Colorado every year. My husband and I were newly married, and his brother brought his girlfriend home for the weekend (the cute, skinny, blond, athletic girlfriend). The ski instructor flirted with her the whole time, and she could ski perfectly well. Somehow, the family treated me like I wasn’t trying hard enough. Such a humiliating experience.
    My husband finally understood how much I WANTED to stay by the fire and read books and drink coffee or hot chocolate, but it took a lot of convincing.

  22. Fuzzy says:

    Oh, I just love your blog. Your story made me laugh. My DEAR husband has planned a skiing trip for our family (and another family) right around the big birthday coming up for me. I am SO not athletic, so I am secretly hoping for an excuse to sit close the the fire and read a good book-except for the fact that I have 3 kids 6 and under including a toddler, so I won’t be doing much sitting. Sigh. I’ll let you know how it goes!

  23. Jenn P. says:

    Why do I always think I’m the only one on the planet with ZERO athletic ability? Fortunately, my husband has only slightly more ability than I, and even less interest in being outdoors. However, your post makes me wish he was a skier. Because of the cheese dip.

  24. TaderDoodles (Lisa Baldwin) says:

    Not only did your post make me laugh and feel heaps better about myself (since apparently I’m not alone) but all the comments have me convinced that even though I live minutes away from two of the most popular ski places in Virginia I do NOT have to go. I will NOT go, and if hubby wants to teach the munchkins to ski he can take his dad, or his friend from work, or the neighbor… but not me. No way. I don’t have to, unless he wants to get me a cabin there so I can cook and knit and blog… while they play in the snow.

  25. Beth says:

    You are such a good sport…and tell such a great story! Thanks for the chuckle (not at your expense, I promise)! I wouldn’t have lasted as long as you did before throwing in (or just plain throwing) the skis! Kudos to you for trying! Besides, a good book by a cozy fire with a mug of hot chocolate and/or a crock of cheese dip sounds MUCH better to me, too!

  26. Lainie@ Mishmash Maggie says:

    Oh how I’ve missed you! We are twins separated at birth!! Only at the age of 42 have I truly come to learn… I am not built for such endeavors. My physical therapy files (yes plural) are filled with, “Skateboarding injury, ice skating injury, and just walking and minding my own business when a gravity storm hit injury.” I feel your pain. Especially when I forget and sit on the floor and try to get up again.
    Thank you for the comic relief and assuring me I am not alone. I would have sat and knit with you had I been there 🙂
    And I do applaud you for trying. Mt. Hood looms over me but will not even attempt to get on skis. My PT made me promise 😉

  27. Julie says:

    Oh, Shannon! that was hilarious! I was laughing all the way through! I would guess I am more of the “sit by the fire” type of gal too. Sounds like a wonderful family trip!

  28. k&c's mom says:

    This was me! I’m feeling your pain!
    I tried to ski on two trips to Winter Park, Colorado. Ended up in the same emergency room both times with the same doctor both times. First trip was skiing=cracked tail bone. Second tubing=broken ribs. Try again? Don’t think so! But I can drink the hot chocolate by the fireside like nobody’s business!

  29. Suzanne says:

    I’m totally with you. First and last ski trip was in college with not-yet-hubby and church youth group. Handled traversing okay (not much slope on football field width hill, but discovered it was a bit more complicated than that when I rode the lift the rest of the way up the hill, then lunged off the ski lift and fell, at which point one ski decided to head downhill without me (and yes, something remarkably similar to “oh, cat crap” came out of my mouth, too). As not-yet-hubby was ever so sweetly walking me (do you walk in skis?) back to the warm, cozy lodge, we met up with our youth pastor and chatted pleasantly on the trail for a few minutes. That is, until I shot to the ground and jerked both feet out of my skis without even unclamping them, just trying to get relieve from a double foot cramp. Sweet, athletic hubby married me anyway, and we’ve never tried to ski together again. Still happily married after 26 years!

  30. Ashleigh (Heart and Home) says:

    In ten days, I will be one of those Colorado people. And I’m getting a little more fearful with every story like this one that I hear. Apparently, there are great plans for us to do much snowshoeing and skiing and tramping through the woods… I’m just wondering how on earth that all works out for a three year old, a two year old and one “situationally-single” mama who has never lived in snow and hasn’t skied since she was a high school freshman.

  31. Ladybug Crossing says:

    The best part of skiing – when you take your boots off at the end of the day…
    I, too, am athletically challenged… My children, thankfully, have some grace and prowess. They’ll never make the Olympic team for anything – based on their genes, they’re lucky they can walk and chew gum.

  32. Teri says:

    You are so my long lost little sister that I begged for!! Our best family vacation was the year we went to Virginia Beach. I do not swim. I do not like the salt water. I do not like crowds. But my husband and kids ( most of them) do. So they swam, boogie boarded and I sat contently on the beach under an umbrella, sipping my Mt. Dew, reading a book…happy. Until one of the boys hurled seaweed at one of the younger girls and she decided Mom looked lonely.

  33. Judi says:

    Oh, my. This reminds me of the one-and-only time I tried snowshoeing. We were cautioned that we should be very careful NOT to fall down because you have absolutely no purchase on snow that’s several feet deep. You will have a VERY difficult time getting up again. I don’t think I’d gone more than 1/8 mile when–you guessed it–I fell. And couldn’t get up. Couldn’t find any kind of solid surface to brace myself. Can’t remember how I finally righted myself, although I’m sure it involved a crane of some sort.

  34. Linda Sue says:

    I used to ski – downhill and cross country, I used to ice skate – on hard frozen water, I used to jazzercise faithfully – I know unto everything there is a season – I’m in the season of Aleve, afghans and good books! Glad you had a wonderful family vacation – every group needs one cheese dip making, cooking baking member!

  35. nicole says:

    I have tried skiing one time. It was admittedly not ideal conditions (Massachusetts in March, not good snow) but I’m pretty sure I could have been in the most ideal conditions and still hated it. It is just not my thing. A week by a fire with books and hot beverages would be heavenly though. So glad you and your family were able to enjoy your vacation.

  36. Deborah says:

    My husband grew up skiing with his family. I never did. Our first vacation together as a married couple was a ski vacation with his mom, dad, brother, sister, and brother-in-law. After a short while being taught by my father-in-law in the morning, we ALL went up the mountain in the afternoon. Everyone else would ski down the mountain a little ways, then watch me slowly fall down toward them till I caught up. By the time we were halfway down, I was sobbing inside my ski goggles. I was so embarrassed. Then I grabbed my new husband and said, get me out of here. Which he did. He and I went back to the practice slopes together until I felt more secure, then we skied by ourselves for a while. By the end of the week, I was actually enjoying myself, and I could ski with his family without feeling like a total fool.

  37. TheOneTrueSue says:

    I love it when I see a post from you popping up in my Reader. 🙂
    I LOVE to ski. LOVE IT. One of the few athletic things I can do without making a fool of myself. But the first time I tried, I didn’t really understand how to stop, kept gathering speed and skiied my way down the bunny hill and straight out into the parking lot, screaming the whole way down. Mildly humiliating.
    I had a boyfriend once who LOVED volleyball. Played it three times a week. Swore he could teach me so we could play coed together. Man, how I failed and failed and failed. It was awful, and the harder he tried, the worse I got. I think he actually broke up with me because I was such a crappy volleyball player. (But I’m o.k. with that :>)

  38. CM says:

    Oh You sweet thing. At least you tried it out. I have never been on any ski in my life and I don’t think I will ever try. That first day I would have plopped myself right down by the fire and stayed there.

  39. Tina says:

    Thank you for making me laugh today 🙂
    I tried skiing once…..in the Swiss Alps. It was horrible. I’ve never tried again.

  40. MommaChelle says:

    Oh my goodness, that had me doubled over. Particularly because my husband thinks that a ski trip would be the perfect, romantic trip for our 15th anniversary this year. Mind you, I’ve never been on skis. And I can fall just standing on ice. The outlook is not good.

  41. Kate says:

    Perfect vacation! Oh goodness the knitting and reading I could get done! I will start talking up a ski vacation for next winter TONIGHT. There is no doubt I will be firmly fireside bound. I am the girl who accidentally dropped the shot put ON HER OWN HEAD in gym class in middle school. Fun times…

  42. TRS says:

    Aww Kitten. I feel so bad for you.
    I too, was the picked last at recess type. and rather than balls hitting me in the forehead – they went with sheer velocity toward my nose. (explains a lot)
    But when I skied for the first time — I was elated that finally, here was a sport I could do!! and do well!!!
    I was hoping your story would end like mine.
    I guess it’s good that you like to bake cookies.

  43. melinda says:

    this could be our family a few years ago! in fact we’re off to co again this feb and i’ve started packing the recipes and books for me – the ski gear for the rest.

  44. SheilaG says:

    Thanks for the laugh!
    We have never tried downhill skiing, but we did do cross country. The only problem is my husband and daughters perfected it after about 5 minutes. I can’t get up or down any incline steeper than 10 degrees. It was embarrassing. Horrendous. And mortifying, especially when one’s 8-year-old has to help you out of yet another snowdrift. While she’s laughing.
    I’m with you about the PE and recess, though. As a kid, I found the perfect way to get out of gym: fake an asthma attack! Works every time.
    Visit To Love, Honor and Vacuum today!

  45. jenni says:

    “The key to not falling is staying in the lodge”
    bwahahahahaa!
    Oh sister, do I EVER hear ya! Living my high school years in Norway meant it was practically mandatory to strap on the skis at some point. While my brothers “shooshed” with skill from the GET-GO, I froze and fell and froze some more, until, like you, I refused to be cajoled any longer.
    Have I mentioned how happy I am that you’re blogging again?
    By the way, it’s my 3 year blogiversary today and I’d love it you popped over seeing as how you’re kind of the reason I have any traffic at all to speak of! ;o)

  46. Ann Voskamp @ Holy Experience says:

    (Just a whisper… it is possible for all your friends not to have crocheted scarves this year? How about a whole grand book of these vignettes? I can hear us all now, snorting and guffawing and belly-jiggling. What a beautiful vision :). Laughter helps heal the world and joy is His good medicine and you sure are a fine nurse of His, Shannon. You’ve written countless stellar posts — and yes ma’am, this is yet another one. *Thank you!*)
    All’s grace,
    Ann

  47. Katie says:

    That sounds eerily similar to my experience when I went skiing! Although I fell when everyone was standing in a circle introducing themselves, so the instructor said, “Well I guess it’s time to learn how to get up; everybody else lay down on the ground.” I was humiliated. I gave it a whirl though and tried to ski, but I after several hundred falls, I just kicked off my skis and walked down the mountain right to the lodge where I stayed for the rest of the day! We went back the next year, and I shopped!! It was great!

  48. Tammy says:

    Too funny!!! I have the same type of hubby….but with him, it’s fencing! NOT A CHANCE I’m going there! I am constantly falling….and looking for even the smallest piece of lint to blame it on. So I feel your pain….uh…in more ways and more places than one!

  49. Tina says:

    (ala Bill Cosby) Which is WHERE I WANTED to BE in the FIRST PLACE!
    I am not fond of sports where breaking of any appendages is a distinct possibility. Give me a warm chair and a book anyday. THAT is a vacation!

  50. melanie says:

    Oh, this brings back memories!! My ski instructor had that same look in his eyes. I had more sympathy for him than he had for me. I ended up making soup for everyone the rest of the week.

  51. Christy B. says:

    My daughter is asking me why I’m laughing so hard. I too married a ski expert, and my ski experience involves being unable to turn and running straight into the tow rope that I knocked all the other skiers (the kind that could actually ski) off, sliding under it (on my back), and having it run across my face. I feel your pain. I too prefer a warm fire and a good book…or a strong and gentle horse.

  52. Shannon Popkin says:

    I say pop the pimple with your ski pole and pull up a chair at the fire beside mine! 🙂
    I distinctly remember my middle school PE teacher doubled over, belly laughing from her spot on the ladder beside the volley ball net. A ball had been spiked at exactly the right angle to hit me square in the forehead, knock my feet out from under me, and level me flat. I had forgotten my gym shoes that day, and my stocking feet put me at an even greater disadvantage for such body leveling.
    We should hook up at a fireside sometime, and swap stories of klutzier days!

  53. Amy says:

    Oh I am so glad I found your blog today. You had me in tears laughing at your complete lack of athletic prowess. I too am a trip up the stairs (and down them for that matter), fall over the laundry basket and land on the dog type of woman. I have yet to give skiing a try though and think, perhaps, I’ll cross that one off the list anyway and save us all some time.

  54. Beachy Mimi says:

    I fell so many times during my first and only lesson I couldn’t even lift my arms to push myself off the ski-lift. There may or may not have been tears involved. Lots of tears. You know it is bad when I volunteer to stay in the cabin and cook.

  55. Musings of a Housewife says:

    Oh my gosh, you are a braver woman than I! My husband KNOWS not to ask me to ski. He wants to go away as a family, and he told me, “You’ll be fine. They have Wifi. Just bring your Macbook.” SNORT.
    I’m really going to miss you at Blissdom!

  56. Gloria says:

    I’m not sure how, but I stumbled across your blog awhile ago. I love your writing, you make me laugh and cheer up my day. And I’m with you on the skiing. I live in the Denver area and don’t get why so many people are willing to go out in the cold and be all sore just to fly down a hill!!

  57. To Think Is To Create says:

    Ah yes, truly great description of my first (and only) ski trip, too. I laughed my way through this post, remembering my own ski pole (and ski, for that matter) flying through the air. The limp I had after that fall may have been *slightly* exaggerated. The lodge is a beautiful thing!
    Thanks for the warm giggles, friend. 🙂

  58. Sue Sharp says:

    Ummm . . . I can relate! As a college student, I sometimes babysat for this young professional couple. One day they asked if I would like to go along with them and a single gentleman friend of theirs to ski. I had never skied in my whole life, but hey, here was a single young man who needed a date! Well, he was a pro at skiing. I never saw him the whole day and at the end of the day, I had frostbite from breaking all my falls with my knitted gloves. I was due to take a final that week in my piano class, which I could not do because of the frostbite and even with a doctor’s note, the professor flunked me because of it.

  59. Sue says:

    Ummm . . . I can relate! As a college student, I sometimes babysat for this young professional couple. One day they asked if I would like to go along with them and a single gentleman friend of theirs to ski. I had never skied in my whole life, but hey, here was a single young man who needed a date! Well, he was a pro at skiing. I never saw him the whole day and at the end of the day, I had frostbite from breaking all my falls with my knitted gloves. I was due to take a final that week in my piano class, which I could not do because of the frostbite and even with a doctor’s note, the professor flunked me because of it.

  60. Janelle says:

    Couldn’t agree more. I’ve been skiing 4 times. I’ve also been helped off the mountain by the ski patrol 4 times. Not hard math, is it. And now I want cheese dip.

  61. Leah says:

    This is terribly funny on many levels! First you are an excellent writer. I do enjoy reading your blog. Second, I am not a ‘skier’ myself. My first experiences included having to be manually lifted OFF the ski lift (at least they had the grace to shut the whole thing down first!), then I realized I’d been whisked away to the black diamond runs with only one way down. Ouch. But FIRST I got stuck in a fence with my skis trying to get to the STARTING point of this hill. Dear friends took off my skis while I crawled out of the fence. Ouch again. On the way down I caused a major collision including 4 people and a very bent ski pole. But the KICKER was that I actually got dumped by a guy who (using his finest analogy skills) told me he’d rather spend the rest of his life on the “black diamond runs” with someone else than on the “bunny hills” with me. Got over him AND any sort of attachment to ski hills :). I prefer fireplaces, books, hot coffee and good conversation, thank you very much!!! And cheese dip ;).

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s