I met this really cool chick at the park yesterday (I somehow avoided the temptation to wrap my arms around her legs, drag her back to my place and demand she be my friend), who told me that since moving here a year ago, she’s met umpteen people who came here ‘for the snow season’ and ended up staying for life.
The thing is, already I completely get that.
I’ve been spending many beautiful minutes dreaming about spending our entire life here. Just go with me here: picture hubby and I, wrinkled-bordering-on-pickled, snowy hair as white as the mountain-tops, racing our wheelchairs down the snow-covered slopes at a fiery pace. Tell me it’s not a beautiful vision!
Oh alright…gees, you’re just like Tim!
He, as usual, is the down-to-earth one, pointing out that we’ve only been here two weeks and to give it time, that we’re simply in the honeymoon period. We sure are, baby: I am head over heels IN LURVE.
(And there you were thinking he was going to point out the impracticalities of wheel-chair boarding…)
But just check out the snow that fell this very afternoon! Can’t you just SEE us there, wheelchairs and all? There we are, just a little to the right, no, left a little, just near the…
Oh alright, so there’s lots of rocky bits and we’d end up mulshified on a ledge being eaten by famished eagles, but come on…it’s called optimism, people!