Thursday, June 17, 2010


He was the one that could talk me into doing the most ridiculous things.
(Matthew to me skiing on the bunny hill with the little kids on a school trip): "Mom you are totally ready for the big run"

"I don't know Matthew... I think it's best if I just stay here."

"Mom, the hardest part is getting on and off the ski lift.  I've been watching you, I know you can do it."

"You think so?"  

"Yep, I'll talk you down."

I should mention at this point that he was only eight or nine at the time and that his idea of skiing was bombing down the hill at a breakneck speed.  I will also mention to those who have never skied before that getting on and off the ski lift is not the hardest part of skiing, stopping is.
I got about halfway down the hill, realized that I was going way too fast, tried to stop, couldn't, so decided to drop and roll (works for fires).  I rolled and slid and slid and rolled and finally came to a stop just below the lift.
 "Hi Mrs. J" called the giggling kids passing above me.
I got up and made my way to the chalet for a hot chocolate to celebrate the fact that a). I was still alive and b). I had suffered no major injury.

As I made my way to the counter, a hush descended on the lunchtime crowd and I could feel eyes following me.  I spotted my reflection in the window and saw that not only had my wool sweater collected huge snowballs as I had slid down the hill but my hair was snow caked and sticking out at all angles.   

Matthew is all grown up now and has a family of his own.  He has matured and no longer encourages or dares me to take risks.  I miss our adventures.

This is my most recent picture of him and is a huge hint in reference to my last post.  : )


  1. At least you didn't hit a shed ;)

  2. Picture is perfect add on to the ski trip...Hilarious!