Last Monday, I was supposed to learn how to ski. You were supposed to have read about it, but the snow stopped the papers getting through (never fear, dear readers, you can still read it online - www.odt.co.nz/news/queenstown-lakes/173489/top-slippery-slope).
Having read that column, you can imagine the devastation I felt last Sunday to learn my first ever skiing lesson, to have been given at the Remarkables, had been postponed ... due to snow.
The irony never ceases to amaze me.
You can also imagine the joy I felt when aforementioned inaugural ski lesson was rescheduled to Saturday - forecast to be a "bluebird day" on the mountain.
Heavy sarcasm is dripped all over those last couple of sentences, by the way.
However, I committed to this and I felt I owed it to the Southern PR girls and those at NZSki who have been trying so hard for five years (and who have ramped up their efforts in the past five months) to get me on that mountain.
When one needed motivation it came in the form of a text message from a certain chief executive promising me a "big bottle of wine" on completion of my lessons (Mr Coddington, this text has been saved as proof).
T'was like a pretend bunny rabbit being dangled in front of a greyhound at the start of a race.
With the thought of that wine in the forefront of my mind, I thought I would try a different approach ... positive thinking.
All day Tuesday as the snow began to melt and the sun started to peep through the clouds I repeated to myself, "I WILL learn to ski, I WILL enjoy it, I will NOT hurt myself or others".
It started to work.
I actually started to look forward to this and had visions of myself zipping down the mountain all carefree and happy, smiling broadly and actually enjoying it.
Then Wednesday came.
Today I was supposed to be updating you on how my first lessons went (providing I was not in a full body cast).
Instead, all I have to update you on is my knitting.
On Wednesday I was lugging the company laptop to my vehicle before work. I put said laptop in the car and then realised it hurt to breathe.
By the time I got to work it hurt to move.
By the time I went home, I was adamant I had popped a rib.
One emergency physio appointment later and I have been diagnosed with sprained thoracic vertebrae (in English, I have hurt my back) and apparently that means I'm not allowed to lift anything heavier than a shoe ... or learn to ski.
The good people at NZSki don't seem to believe me - I think they think I'm making it up to get out of my lesson.
I ask you, would I do such a thing?!
Well, maybe, but honestly, not this time.
So, I've spent the last few days knitting.
I have made a lovely beanie (which I will be wearing on the skifield) and am going to attempt to make some gloves, although these are for the more "advanced knitter", but, like skiing, I will get there eventually.
FOOTNOTE: Troxy's first ski lesson has been tentatively rescheduled for this weekend. If this does not eventuate, her next column will likely focus on knitting.
