In the 'perfect world' dreams of my now eleven year old, he says he'd be the last one off the mountain at night and the first one on the lift in the morning, sleeping right at the base for the few hours of sleep he'd take in between. So that's just what we did for his birthday - a quick and local little getaway, a surprise forty-eight hour family ski bonanza...much more mountain time than their regular daytrips with Papa.
After years of skiing, Calvin decided to give boarding a go this week, just like his Papa. He took to it, well, just like we thought he might. With more grace than I thought possible on a first day. Love. Then he happily welcomed his baby brother Harper into the fold of family skiing for the first time too. More Love.
I had every intention of showing up here, on the blog, yesterday. Laptop and camera cords were packed alongside diapers and ski goggles (and a whole lot more). I had a little bit of work I deemed important enough to bring all of that along with us, and thought it would be no big gig to get a little blogging in too. But the technology fairies had other plans for me, and none of that happened.
Once I decided to roll with it though, I counted those technological snafus as a gift. Because it meant that in those ten minutes of precious time where five of my peeps were happily on the mountain with boards and skis, one little one was sleeping, and all mittens were accounted for...I could just sit. And of course, knit by the fire (fake fire, though it may be).
Someday, I suppose when Annabel is ready, I'll need to join them on the slopes. But then again, maybe not. Because as I was reminded this week, there's plenty to be done from right where I am. Do you have any idea how much food is required to keep those hungry, growing skiers going? Or hot chocolate preparation? Not to mention band aids and arnica and ice packs kept at the ready. And that doesn't even include keeping track of gear for seven.
Or the knitting. Or the photography-playing, or the deep breathing in silence, or the fresh air breathed in from the quiet of the woods just a few steps outside the door.