It Seemed Unlikely

Improbable even, if you factor in what it would take to gather three friends without nursing babies
or pregnant bellies, three dads to babysit 13 children on the same day, oh - and ideal weather.
Combine that all with a will to learn something completely out of my comfort zone, and you have
an event requiring the sun, moon, and stars to participate in proper alignment.

I learned to ski.

Well, technically I started learning how to ski.
Or better yet, I tried.
That's pretty good for me.  I'm neither athletic nor graceful, and generally prefer sticking to experiences
in which someone knowledgeable holds my hand.
Remember that cartoon of Goofy skiing?
That's what I felt like, and I'm confident I looked like ol' Goof as well. :-)

My man - he'd like us to ski together. 
Amazing fella he is, he scheduled a class for me, watched the chiluns, and sent along a couple
of my favorite girlfriends so we'd be sure to laugh real hard.
Which we did.  Starting before we went even. 

The question came up:  "Which hat should I wear?  Maybe the right hat will help me look like
I know what I'm doing!"

And in  response to that:  "I know what you mean.  I'm looking for something warm to wear 
that isn't woodland camo.  
I want to blend in, but I don't think that's the look I'm going for."


Yep.  We laughed a lot!  There was one point when riding a ski lift for the first time, that I laughed so hard
I couldn't talk. I think J thought I might keel off the lift right there.
It doesn't take a lot to give me a big kick.  I'm easy that way :-D

After all that talk about hats, my sympathetic buddy crocheted one for me.  It made me look like a pro too, when I tried it on and wore it on the walk from the parking lot, the paying, and ski rentals.
Unfortunately my head got too hot before I set ski to decline and I went bareheaded for the duration.

  










Our instructor was a 60 year old man who kept saying things like "Whoa yeah.  You're Rockin' it!"
and then expect a high-five, which made us feel even more dorky than absolutely necessary.

Needless to say we felt a bit empty handed without husbands and children.  Perhaps more than a bit.
My identity was in question.  Here I was with two cute girlfriends, out playing in the snow for a day,
and expected to high-five a ski instructor who's name (it said on the tag he wore) was "RICHARD from
Coure de'Alene".  Where was my tag?  What would it say? "Momma Bug I-left-7-children-at-home-with
my-handsome-hunk-of-a-husband-and-what-am-I-doing-HERE!!!?"

In hindsight I think a tag with some explanation would have promoted more questioning and less assuming.
Assumptions can be more bearable in some circumstances.

Another thing, I was pleasantly surprised to find, is that it's possible to fall without breaking any bones. 
I guess I always thought skiing = falling = broken stuff.  All I got was a bruise.
And some sore muscles. 

It would be good to get sore muscles more often I think.

I wouldn't really say I'm skiing yet.  I mean, unless you define that to include the gravitational force which
propelled me to the bottom of the bunny hill (at times against my will) haphazardly, and not necessarily in an upright position (can one ski on ones bottom?) but I sure had fun!

The whole experience was enough to make smoke pour out my ears.  But despite chanting instructions
under my breath all day, and then twitching all night as I turned powdery corners in my sleep, I woke thinking
I just might like to go again.

Don't be thinking Black Diamonds any time soon Handsome-Hunk-of-a-Husband! ;-)