Another cold day. Pictured above: ‘Waiting for Waxwings’.
Exhausted after plumbing problems (beware anyone who invites us in – your convenience will be inconvenienced), and satiated from last night’s barbecued bison burgers (it’s traditional that once he’s sorted the
plunging plumbing, Ken is sent in minus 20C to dig out the barbecue and provide the first of the year in that genre), and in the absence of Tim to give Sue a lift to Gatineau Park, Helen stayed at home and Sue and I enjoyed a 10 km ski by way of three laps of the Mooney’s Bay nicely groomed classic ski piste.
Before that, I’d wandered down to the river for a while and had discovered a lifeguard sitting out the winter in a plastic chair. Spotting me from a distance, he left his post for a while and hid behind a tree whilst I passed; perhaps he was embarrassed at having such a cushy job at this time of year due to the limited bathing opportunities.
It’s a five minute drive to Mooney’s Bay, where the piste had been freshly groomed, but the wind off the river was perishing cold. It took me a good lap (3+ km) to warm up.
Here, another lifeguard had done a bunk. We later found him shivering in the cafe, from where he was soon kicked out to resume his duties.
Then I followed another tradition, having been misled by some incorrectly labelled ‘pitted’ olives that weren’t pitted the other day. Dentist Adam shook his head and admitted there wasn’t a lot he could do, the remains of my broken tooth being likened to a tree stump.
And so the holiday continued apace…
It’ll be going so fast over the next few days that any postings are likely to be delayed or very brief. I’m sure readers won’t object.
Have a great weekend.