After a stack and a mild concussion, balance is an issue. A few off days and a cold that decided to hit just in time for christmas, I got back and have beaten myself into shape again. Day off tomorrow should be full of boarding.
Christmas, an interesting time of year. A day that is normally spent with your family, and I have sent myself away to the smallest village I could find. With nothing but a free ski bus for transport, being up at 800m has proved a trap. With an Aunty and Uncle in Geneva that wanted me for christmas, I instead worked.
Mother had sent me away with a gift that was unwrapped at first light. A phone call from the grandparents which I somehow rejected mid sleep and many many from the folks which I could not answer because the emotions were overwhelming. Breakfast was charming, champagne and orange juice flew round the room. Cooking up a storm in the kitchen for our fabulous guests.
I can't say that cleaning on christmas was ideal, but service for christmas dinner was grand. Although we didn't sit down for christmas dinner and I had no family within arms reach, I managed to spend christmas with five very thankful families that appreciated everything that was done for them. George and Charlotte, the children staying with us, made my day with a self drawn christmas card. Dancing in the kitchen and celebratory beers after service filled the room with laughter. Not the best christmas in the world but probably one I will remember, purely for the fact it was different from my normal.
The sky was clear, well at about 1200m it was clear on this day of days. Little would you know when lazing about down in the valley, where you can't see 10m in front of you that above you, and it isn't far to the top, is crystal clear skies and deck chairs to laze about on. That is what I did for the latter part of my boxing day. Wishing that I knew results from the Sydney to Hobart but also so thankful for the snow and the ability to ride.
I received news that night of a friends father. One Mr Arblaster sails that race and sails a boat called, of all things, Georgia. If any of you happen to follow the race or even read the newspaper in good old Aus then you would have heard that Georgia put out a mayday call mid race. All crew were rescued successfully.
There is always a story that comes from the race. A broken keel, a broken mast, ripped sails and lost spinnaker poles. There have been years of trauma and the highest seas that have been seen, lives have been grabbed and amazing rescues have been performed. The people who go out and take part in these events have an understanding. An understanding of nature. You can't beat nature, you never could.
