The Ski Lodge
I ate a whole package of Twizzlers by the fire waiting for my friends to finish skiing.
I gave up on skiing just after lunchtime, while they took off for the black diamond runs.
The morning had gone okay, but in the afternoon, on my way up a blue hill by myself, I neglected to get off the ski-lift until I realized my skis weren’t making contact with the slippery surface.
My chair turned the loop at the top of the hill with me still on it.
Panicking, imagining being crunched by the machinery at the bottom of the hill, I jumped from the seat, falling about four feet into a pile of fluffy snow.
Fortunately, the seat following mine didn't knock me in the back of the head because a sharp-eyed operator turned off the lift.
I crawled out of the snow pile, mortified, and returned to the ski hill as though I wasn't the biggest klutz there that day.
My legs were trembling with excess adrenaline as I made my way down and when I got to the bottom, I decided to walk in my skis over to the baby hill.
I learned to ski here years ago when my kids were little and I tagged along on their class ski trips. The baby hill has a rope tow, which seemed like all I could handle today. I grabbed onto it, and amid a line of noisy three and four-foot people, slid uphill to the top of the gentle slope.
Skiing down looked easy, and I told myself not to feel silly that there were no other adults to be seen. When I started down the hill, I fell. And I couldn't get up.
It felt like there was no edge on the slippery packed-down slope. And worse, I couldn't get my fat thighs to cooperate. Cold and shaky, I finally managed to get to my feet. Small people in bright snowsuits whizzed past me as I cut back and forth across the slight slope, descending as slowly as possible.
At the bottom, I snapped off my skis and turned them in at the rental desk.
The ski lodge beckoned. Fireplace. Hot chocolate. All the good things about skiing. Maybe I'd get another grilled cheese. At lunchtime, I was fairly sure I’d noticed Twizzlers by the cashier.
By the time my friends had had enough of skiing, it was dark. One by one they plunked themselves into chairs around me at the fireplace.
“When did you finish?” someone asked, her cheeks rosy, her hair flattened to her forehead.
“Oh, a while ago,” I answered truthfully.
What is the best part of a ski trip?
I’d love to hear about your most memorable ski adventure. Please let me know in the comments, or reply to this email.
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Review time!
The reviews for Odd Mom Out have started, and I must tell you, the reaction from readers is the most anticipated part of the book writing process for me. The following is one of my favourites from this week, written by someone I’ve never met or heard of named Amy Dora. She posted this on her Instagram.
This book was everything that I needed right now...and more!
When I read the synopsis I was instantly hooked - the MFC Trudy, seemed horrifically relatable and I was already laughing out loud in a sad understanding way!
Trudy is having the worst time of it - she finds out her ex is engaged to her dentist (eugh), her daughter is eloping to Europe to get married, she ends up forced to live with her horrendous mother, she has put on loads of weight and feels like sh*t at the thought of being up for scrutiny in front of all of the above people and more at the wedding. What more could go wrong....
This book had me howling in laughter and empathy for Trudy who is literally in the thick of it, however it is written in such a hilarious way that it reminds me of Bridget Jones and I really felt so connected to Trudy that she felt like a best friend I had never met. I loved that it was set across dual countries - Canada and Croatia which really adds to the adventure.
You can't help loving Trudy and her go-getter attitude in the midst of her chaos fueled life and really feel like giving her the best air fist pump by the end.
It read this so quickly and it was such a pleasure to read that I forgot I was even reading, as I was so immersed in the story! Without doubt, a 5 star from me!
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