What's Black and Blue and Stings All Over?

Let us begin by saying...."Ow."

Our flight took off on Wednesday night landing us in Colorado. Thursday night was just lovely with Valentine's dinner at Zengo. The mouthwatering Kobe beef was to die for, both as an appetizer and a dinner entree. Hey, when it's a pre-fix menu, you can't go wrong with Kobe beef, so why not order it twice? And what better way to end the perfect meal than with caramel flan. Yum. I would go on and on about the meal, but the hubby will likely have a more colorful account of our Valentine's feast on his blog, to which I will link.

The rest of the weekend, my friends, went downhill from there. The hubby and I joined the in-laws for a weekend trip to the ski lodge. Having only skied four times before, about five years ago, I very much considered myself a newbie. I was set on taking a lesson, but wanted to get a feel for the skis and the snow. You know, just to jog the old memory.

"Skiing is like riding a bike", they all told me. Yeah, okay.

So, in my efforts to recall my skiing instructions from five years ago, the hubby suggested we go on the lift and work in some practice on a run called "Galloping Goose". Sounds harmless enough. Geese are fun. Geese are cute, especially when they're galloping. It's not like the run was called "Python of Destruction". So, I gave it a whirl.

I miraculously hopped off the lift unharmed. That in itself boosted my confidence. I started heading down the run. I was a little nervous because I began to pick up speed and in the middle of the rush, I realized I forgot how to stop. In theory, I knew I had to bring the tips of my skis together, but since I had not practiced the actual motion in a dog's age, theory goes RIGHT out the window. At the very bottom of the run was this massive mound of snow. It was a mountain in and of itself! Why? Why would anyone purposely put that there? What happened to my little galloping goose? My little, safe galloping goose?

My skis were aimed straight at the ginormous mound. As I got closer, the mound got bigger. As it stretched in height, a mouth slowly took shape and exposed its long hideous teeth. My eyes popped open as a demonic, "Muaaahahaha" resounded the slopes. In all the madness with the teeth, the snow and the "Muaaahahaha", I lost all control. My skis slipped from under me, my body was lifted slightly off the ground and BAM! Landed right on my left hip. Oh, the agony.

For the rest of the weekend, I was left in the lodge with my books, my knitting and a nasty, nasty bruise. That's okay, though. The weekend wasn't a total loss. The food at the lodge was exquisite. It's been three days and I still can't stop thinking about the ribs. Also, I had a chance to finished my hat and got started on a matching scarf. See! Not so bad after all.

Here's a snapshot of my hat. A huge improvement over the first one. Not as many slip-ups. Believe it or not, it's something that I might actually wear in public. The scarf is coming along nicely. I'll add pics as soon as it's complete. Until then, I'll be relaxing at home with my knitting needles and an ice pack.