Unusually warm weather this January has not led to prime conditions on the ski slopes. Mostly, I've been learning to snowboard on ice rather than snow, which means my body is covered now with bruises of every colour. Today was our third snowboard lesson, and Blue-eyed Instructor kept saying, "Look how great you are doing!" My daughter and I congratulated ourselves as we negotiated turns, hardly falling at all. We are both getting the hang of snowboarding, and the way it feels to carve across the slope. But the ice made each run somewhat terrifying. Even though I didn't fall very often, the falls that I did take – slamming my body against ice – really hurt.
By 3 pm, we had retreated to the lodge to eat a snack, compare bruises, and rest for a while. I know that ski lodges in movies have comfy furniture, and fireplaces, and hot tubs, and sometimes famous actors wearing tap shoes, but our ski lodge is nothing like that. The lodge is a big room filled with picnic tables piled with backpacks, coolers, brown paper bags, and wet clothing. You hardly ever see anyone burst spontaneously into song or tap dance across the floor. But sunlight does come in through the big windows, and the chaos of people constantly coming and going, peeling off clothes or putting them on again, makes it a friendly place.
Today the place was half empty because the bad conditions had kept many skiers and boarders home. I kept shifting around on the bench to get comfortable – after a few hard falls on the end of my spine, sitting on a hard bench was painful. Daughter was doing some work for her classes, and she entertained me by reading aloud bits of the book The Theory Toolbox by Nealon and Giroux. It felt good to rest my sore body and talk with my Wonderful Smart Beautiful Daughter. After the adrenaline rush of boarding down icy slopes and all the hard work of remembering how to position our bodies, it was nice to do something as simple as talk about theory.
"Read me some more," I said to her, "It feels great to be doing something we are good at."
10 comments:
Ah yes, the simplicity of theory. I'm sure all of the other snowboarders would agree with you.
Wow, that theory toolbox book sounds fun, and useful. I might have to get a copy.
Gosh, I'm disappointed at this lack-of-tap-dancing news. Another fond illusion shattered!
How nice to be able to sit in the really cold and have snow, and how really really cool to have a daughter that is normal and wants to spend time with you and is smart and doing the right thing. My son is like that, although what he likes to do is talk, and talk we do. My daughter, well she is not able to do anything right now but think of how to con someone, how to get drugs, sell drugs, avoid the cops, and how to keep me from Butttons. But this to will pass.
Ha! Thinking about theory on the weekends. You are such an academic. You don't see me doing friday poetry blogging, do you?
I don't think I've ever seen one of those fabled resort ski lodges either. All the ones I've ever encountered have been heavy on the long picnic tables, with porches surrounded by skiis in the snow outside, and inside the smell of wet clothing, mud, and defrosting clumps of snow on the floor, and boiling hot dogs.
Even so, there's something special about that. *grin*
I've never been to a ski lodge in my life. Please tell me they at least have a big fireplace.
Isn't that a requirement? A big, crackling fire?
Please take care of your brave, bruised self. I know, I know. The snowboarding *is* how you take care of yourself, but still. Falling on ice sounds way painfull.
SuperB
I'm going to call my mom right now and ask her if she'll start snowboarding with me.
I suspect she'll suggest we go shopping instead ; )
Jo(e): You made fun of Teri for reading Nonparametric Statistical Methods on the weekend, but you read The Theory Toolbox?
Friday Mom: Actually, it's been three Sundays in a row of ice. We've set a record this January so far -- warmest temperatures and least snow. Very unusual for here. The condition of the ski slope has been horrible. I'm hoping we get some snow soon.
Rob: Hey, I didn't choose the book. My daughter did.
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