Knitting on Impulse

When Heaven Freezes Over

It looked so inviting partway up.

The 80 km/h winds at the summit modified the experience ever so slightly.

And I didn't get the spectacular shot of Black Tusk I was hoping to show you.

On the plus side, I got to make "first tracks" for the first time ever!  (As did the guy skiing 10 feet behind me - the drifting was rather astonishing, and a wee bit disconcerting to ski through.) 

Sunny Slopes

Yesterday morning began like this:

It looked awfully hopeful after weeks of unremitting gray, and sure enough:

You knew I was going to go skiing, right?

I took a slice, and simplified the palette a bit (because it's impossible - or at least daunting - to assemble 25 slight variations of blue):

 

And came up with this:

Slide it over and fill in the gaps, and you can easily double the width:

Admittedly, there are more than two colours on many rows, but that wouldn't be unbearably daunting for say, a stranded colourwork scarf (knit in the round).  I could see the pattern at the ends, continuing into an indefinite expanse of blue in the body of the scarf.

Valentine's Date

Today being one of the two days of the week on which both kids are elsewhere occupied for a few hours, Rob and I played hooky from all the stuff we could and should have been doing, and went on a date.

We began with a little trip to the top, where it was simultaneously snowing, densely foggy, and brilliantly sunny.

The falling snow muffled all sound, making for an eerily magical atmosphere.

Since we couldn't see where we were going, Rob felt it would be an excellent time to introduce me to my first black diamond run, which admittedly, didn't look all that bad down the initially visible five or six feet. It got different in a hurry. I'm proud to say, I only fell down once, and none of my gear came off. Truth be told, a modest interlude of stark terror was an effective antidote to the chronic worry that's been niggling around my psyche for the last few days - sort of clears the pipes, if you will.

The medicinal effect was undeniably heightened by knitting and beer, though.

(Yes, I forgot my sunglasses.)

Saturday Ski

I am not naturally tempermentally inclined toward downhill skiing. I adore the mountains - give me miles and miles of trail, a water bottle, and a good pair of runners and I'm in heaven, but this business of falling down a steep hill in semi-controlled fashion runs absolutely counter to my nature. Nevertheless, one can't live in Whistler without skiing, so I have persisted (or rather, Rob has persisted in shoving me out the door.) I am therefore happy to report that for the first time this season, I felt a sense of genuine joy and anticipation on the ride up that almost entirely obliterated the customary anxiety.

It would be difficult not to be happy up here - the temperatures are mild, thanks to an inversion, the sweet smell of pine is in the air, snow conditions are marvelous, and the sun is blessedly brilliant.

Perhaps this is what all the fuss is about.

The Top of the Matter

It has been warm and misty here in the valley this week. It's the kind of air that hugs your shoulders like a lace stole, settles sweetly on the tongue with every breath. Snowy things also settle in this unusually warm weather:In these short winter days, the close dim light can become oppressive though, and one gets the urge to rise above it all. A quick trip to the top puts things back in perspective and we are fortunate enough to be able to ski the 1200 m (4000 ft) drop straight back to our door (arrow):

Goofing Off

There was no shortage of things to do this morning, the most urgent being to polish up this,in time for today's submission (fortunately, I can hand-carry it.)

There's reams of computer work I should be doing, a house which is in dire need of organizing, and a sadly neglected coil of fine silver casting longing glances at a pair of size 00 needles. Even the poor Dulaan sweater is merely inching along:

Instead, I went skiing.

Because really, what is the point of living here, if you're too busy to ski? Also the twenty pounds that have attached themselves to my waistline over the last year are not going to melt away by the power of wishful thinking. (Believe me, I have tested this method extensively and feel I may speak with authority on this point.) The conditions were fabulous, the crowds were minimal, being early on a weekday, and I feel so much better. Now back to work!