Last night I got back from a few days at Thredbo. It's funny going to the snow from Melbourne. I guess because the climate is so completely different it feels like going on a big holiday. It kind of rules. I felt after four days like it was a pretty nice break. l met a woman who'd been there three weeks. It made me think "Whoa she must be loaded" and "That must feel like a million years." And also "Nice life!"
The snow is a weird place. Firstly, it's so beautiful.
There's funny things about it though. Like at the snow a house automatically becomes a chalet which makes it seems so much more glamourous. (Although Wikipedia has some interesting things to say on this).
Even if the bookshelf is full of Danielle Steele novels the fact it is in a chalet makes it classy. And somehow a shelf full of Danielle Steele novels seems appropriate in a chalet.
And faux fur throws which would otherwise seem gross seem awesome.
Baby did skiing lessons which reminded me of my first skiing lessons and made me realise that a lifetime of experiences makes going through mildly traumatic or difficult experiences so much easier. If your lifetime is 35 years and not 4 years.
Apparently if you only have a 4-year lifetime of experiences, falling over repeatedly on snow while wearing planks on your feet feels even shitter than if you have 35 years of experience. But learning to ski still rules!
But not as much as going on a waterslide.