- Untitled
- The season begins
- Jan 2010
- Feb 2010
- March 2010
- April 2010
- May 2010
- Ski Pictures 2010
- June 2010
- July 2010
- August 2010
- September 2010
- October 2010
- Late October
- November
- December 2010
- January 2011
- February
- The European Youth Olympic Festival
- March 2011
- The season ends
- May and June 2011
- End of June
- July
- August in Yorkshire
- September 2011
- 28 October 2011
- November/December 2011
- Season 2012
- February 2012
- March and April
- June
- 'Summer' 2012
The big fridge
We took down the skis and both kids did something they have never done before: skied indoors. Sam went to Landgraaf in Holland and complained of spending five days in a fridge. Honi, even more reluctantly, agreed to a three day camp in Hemel Hemstead, but only if she could leave after shooting and dance on the Monday. Dance was ‘open evening’ so I grudgingly agreed and packed the car mid afternoon so as to meet her from school, do the evening’s activities, be on our way South by seven. I had hopes of arriving at the Premier Inn comfortably 11 pm.
By just after eight pm I had negotiated 50 mph section which seems to have been under construction since we moved into the area, stopped for a snack at Wetherby service station and were making good progress. We passed the turning to Castleford which made my thoughts turn to all things ski related. Getting kit ready for ski-ing, I thought to myself, is a piece of cake compared to loading a horsebox, after all you need is helmet, gloves, shin guards, poles, skis and aaaaaargh! That was when I remembered that I never had found the boots.
They should have been in the attic, but they weren’t. So I had assumed I would find them when I picked up the skis, but I didn’t. But by that stage I guess I had forgotten that I hadn’t packed them with the kit. I considered my options: hire boots – not at Honi’s level; go home and sleep and set of fagain in the morning – I wouldn’t sleep, I was too mad; or can the whole idea?) No I knew I didn’t have any option except go back, get boots and set off again.
Honi was suitably apologetic for not putting them in herself but she had been Pony Club Eventing all week-end. I had prided myself in the super organisational skills for that - even having spare medical arm bands to lend to the less organised.
But that was history and I was still minus ski boots. The worst bit of the next hours was the first one. Going in the wrong direction (at 50 mph because of the roadworks) when you have a four hour drive in the other one ahead of you is pretty soul destroying.. Honi fell asleep as we passed Castleford the second time. Good for her but bad for me as I had not looked at the route planner which she was holding.
We drew up to the Premier Inn at 12.45 after a minor detour. Honi stirred and said ‘That didn’t take too long’. I didn’t have the energy to reply
We took down the skis and both kids did something they have never done before: skied indoors. Sam went to Landgraaf in Holland and complained of spending five days in a fridge. Honi, even more reluctantly, agreed to a three day camp in Hemel Hemstead, but only if she could leave after shooting and dance on the Monday. Dance was ‘open evening’ so I grudgingly agreed and packed the car mid afternoon so as to meet her from school, do the evening’s activities, be on our way South by seven. I had hopes of arriving at the Premier Inn comfortably 11 pm.
By just after eight pm I had negotiated 50 mph section which seems to have been under construction since we moved into the area, stopped for a snack at Wetherby service station and were making good progress. We passed the turning to Castleford which made my thoughts turn to all things ski related. Getting kit ready for ski-ing, I thought to myself, is a piece of cake compared to loading a horsebox, after all you need is helmet, gloves, shin guards, poles, skis and aaaaaargh! That was when I remembered that I never had found the boots.
They should have been in the attic, but they weren’t. So I had assumed I would find them when I picked up the skis, but I didn’t. But by that stage I guess I had forgotten that I hadn’t packed them with the kit. I considered my options: hire boots – not at Honi’s level; go home and sleep and set of fagain in the morning – I wouldn’t sleep, I was too mad; or can the whole idea?) No I knew I didn’t have any option except go back, get boots and set off again.
Honi was suitably apologetic for not putting them in herself but she had been Pony Club Eventing all week-end. I had prided myself in the super organisational skills for that - even having spare medical arm bands to lend to the less organised.
But that was history and I was still minus ski boots. The worst bit of the next hours was the first one. Going in the wrong direction (at 50 mph because of the roadworks) when you have a four hour drive in the other one ahead of you is pretty soul destroying.. Honi fell asleep as we passed Castleford the second time. Good for her but bad for me as I had not looked at the route planner which she was holding.
We drew up to the Premier Inn at 12.45 after a minor detour. Honi stirred and said ‘That didn’t take too long’. I didn’t have the energy to reply