Had some good days last week. Working like crazy with enough writing to do to last a life time (it seems), but I took some great days with my kids to take advantage of prime winter.  The boys and I went snowmobiling (told the story Sunday at Connexus).

But I also took Jordan and Sam skiing at Blue Mountain in Collingwood on Friday.  That was a cool thing in two ways. 

First, it’s the best ski hill in southern Ontario.  Second, I stared an old enemy in the face. 

Back in my university days, we went up to Blue.  I was something like 22 and had never skied in my life.  I got the rental package, steeled myself for the bunny hill, but couldn’t make it up the poma lift – the kind that kind of just catches you and pulls you up.  It’s spring loaded, but I didn’t move.  The pressure built up so badly that eventually it threw me into the snowbank on the side, and that was it for me.  The end of my skiing career.

Later that year I met Toni, my wife, who’s an awesome skier.  Slowly over the years, I learned how to ski.  But Friday was my first trip back to Blue — and it was nice to be back at the place of defeat and this time, ski all day with my guys.  Nice – in so many ways.

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