Skiing

My sister came into town the Tuesday before Christmas with her two boys. On Wednesday we went skiing. My last memory of skiing was when I was eight. I've repressed most of the memories from that trip; all I remember is that I fell down and cried a lot. I wasn't sure what to expect, but I trust J and didn't have the heart to squelch his enthusiasm, so off we went.








That's my sister on the right. She is passing me. I am going very very slowly. To my credit, I didn't fall at all getting off the lift. I made up for it, though.











Near the end of the day when S's class went up the lift to go down the mountain, J took pity on S's teacher, who was trying to ski backwards down the mountain with S and his cousin M clinging to her legs.










The bunny slope was more to S's liking.














O, on the other hand, is a natural. We have a great little video of him flying down the bunny slope after being told by his instructor to wait at the top. The instructor caught him at the bottom but couldn't be mad at him, because O was obviously so thrilled and had exhibited perfect form. He's been asking to go again ever since.








Somewhere in J's head is the hope that, in addition to being a hiking, camping, exploring, 4-wheeling family, we will also become a skiing family. Hmmmm... Give us a couple years and a few more ski lessons -- then we'll see.