More Fernie

Think am getting better, am hobbling around a bit more, drowning my sorrows and sleeping a lot while John puts in a few runs. He didn't want to leave me but it's criminal for both of us not to ski when the snow is like this (I'd be out there like a shot!). Apparently I will be better, according to Mad Canadian Doctor, when I can 'duckwalk.' She demonstrated. I cannot yet duckwalk, but it is my ambition. (John can't duckwalk either but you do lose flexibility as you get older....).

Last night we went to Central with the intention of having huge steak sandwiches and getting hammered. We achieved this successfully. Apparently I had to be relieved of my crutches after a certain point had been reached (J wasn't kidding about the crampons, they are lethal). We challenged a gang of guys who were playing doubles on the pool table and kicked their asses (I absolutely loved handing my crutches to John to limp around the table and play my shots), and apparently I asked them more than once how it felt to lose to a crippled girl. (Evidently it makes your penis smaller).

Then I spotted a pair of Australians, one of whom, if you had drunk as much as I had, could conceivably have been said to resemble Heath Ledger, in that he was a human male, and I pounced on him. I was vastly amused and would not stop telling him how much he looked like the actor while John had a more sensible conversation with his friend. We ended up doing tequila shots and I had tabasco sauce on my sleeve this morning so it escalated from plain tequila I suppose. I also bumped into Heath and his friends this morning at the ski lodge and pretended to be both blind and invisible. John reckons I should have said hi.

Here are some more pics of skiing at Fernie – John likes this sequence, but I did not enjoy having the photos taken!

John doing what snowboarders do.

Where's John....?
Seriously, it is cheaper to buy an entire cow than a chicken breast in this country.

All the chickens have gone south for the winter.