Weekend on the Couch

Okay. So I went skiing yesterday, which seemed like a must-do at the time: sunny skies, low avalanche risk, good people to go with, feeling a bit better. Turns out that it was just the thing to push my cold into a full-blown flu, and I am now set up on the couch, in Whistler, doped up on DayQuil. I always feel strange about drinking things that are bright orange, like DayQuil, but I am sick and want to feel better, so I shoot the stuff back at the suggested four-hour intervals. Doped. I think it makes me write better.

I have officially started writing a book. What makes it official is that I am telling people. I am writing a book! See? Now you know, and that is as official as it gets until I actually finish it and someone gets to read it. During the Writing for Kids and Young Adults course we had to submit two pieces for writing workshops, and my second piece actually had a character in it who is growing into a very complex and very much alive-in-my-mind kind of young lady. An imaginary life is growing inside my synapses, and the more I write about it, the more real it is becoming. More characters are flooding into the plot as well, which has been quite interesting. I’ll be going along, scratching out a scene or some notes in my journal and then all of a sudden in walks someone else. It’s still a very rough work-in-progress, as these things tend to be for sometimes years, but at the moment I am totally interested and engaged in the process of getting it out onto the page. Please wish me luck. I think I’ll need it! 

Writing. Where it is considered normal to engage in and respond to the lives of make-believe characters and places. Take note, schizophrenics. You now have all the excuse you need. Just tell people you're writing a book.

Being all strung out on cold medicine is great for writing, though. I just write and write without judgment. It’s kind of like the analytical, self-depreciating part of my brain has been lulled off to sleep in a hammock under some Hawaiian palm tree, leaving the fun-loving let’s-write-about-toothless-green-monsters-with-backgammon-addictions-just-because-we-can side of my brain buzzing like a hive full of bees starved for honey. The meadow of wildflowers is right here, and this let’s-tap-every-flower side of my brain and I are out gathering quickly quickly quickly sometimes there is no time for punctuation get it all RIGHT NOW!

And cue next topic: Skiing yesterday off the Duffey Lake Road was amazing. Great fall lines, lovely powder. I seem to ski with groups of older guys, which is great because they bring all their experience traveling in the backcountry along with their knowledge of spots it would take me years to track down on my own. Plus they have great attitudes. No showing off hey look at the cliffs I can huck types to muddle up a good day of skiing ;)

 Up-track

 Looking back.

 At the top. Had to borrow a jacket from Simon because I forgot mine.

 Simon skiing down. My tracks are on the far left.

 The second pitch of skiing.

Portrait of me spilling delicious hot Ribena drink all over my face while trying to pour it into my mouth without contaminating Simon's thermos cup.

Another up track. No wonder I am sick!

On the drive into Lillooet early yesterday morning I saw the sheep in their usual spot. I keep calling them goats but these are big-horned mountain SHEEP. Goats have the long white hair and small horns. Look at how well they blend in!

And a beautiful view.

Now I’m off to write some more.