Hello friends! I thought I’d pop in and mention a couple of things. First, Debbie asked if I was using different colors on my two BBD pieces.  I am using the threads that are called for on the Quaker House, with the exception of the green.  I’m substituting WDW Scuppernong for the Olde Willow Stitchery that was listed.  On the ‘Tis the Season piece, I worked out a cotton overdye substitution, because I just didn’t want to buy all that silk for a holiday piece, however wonderful it is!  But, I should also note that I used my “vibrant” setting on my camera.  I will take some new pictures in the daylight and post those this weekend.  I am also using a different linen than is called for on each, but I can’t remember which ones!

And, Margaret, I have to agree that Merrill’s are wonderful.  In fact, the Keen’s I bought were to replace a really old pair of Merrill’s, that have a lot of the sole worn away on them.  But, who am I kidding?  I won’t get rid of them.  They will still be my weekend kick-around shoes.  I just couldn’t find any Merrill’s that would work for weekdays.  Almost bought a black and fuschia pair of Merrill boots though!

Now, to the main event.  At least the main event in my life lately.  I’m watching the women’s Olympic snowboard / half-pipe event right now.  How many of you are watching the Olympics?  What is your favorite event?  We have an Orem native who is competing in the skeleton.  I’ll admit, I cheated and checked the results online, but I’m going to also watch late night!

And, as I watch all of these events, I wonder what is in the psyche of these competitors that allows them or pushes them to go FAST down a hill on sticks or spin high in the air on boards?  Or run and jump onto little tiny sleds, head first, down what I can only describe as an icy alpine slide on steroids, like Noelle Pikus-Pace?

I live at the base of some of the most beautiful mountains in the world, where skiing is the ultimate call-in-sick excuse.  I did “transfer in” from Southern California just before high school.  I remember all of my new friends would go skiing.  I never had the money to ski really, so I didn’t.  Until I was an adult and working for a company where I helped to manage some conferences for key partners.  We arranged for the conference to be held at Deer Valley, and part of the fun was free ski lessons or a snowmobile tour.

The bunny hill was wonderful!  My instructor asked me if I had ever skied before; he thought I was a natural (of course he couldn’t have been biased by the fact that he was being paid!).  I picked up on the whole technical aspect of skiing immediately.  I could even stop at the bottom of the hill.  I spent the greater portion of the day going up and down that hill.  It was my friend and I loved it.  Absolutely.

Then, I took my first ride on the big lift.  I barely got off in time for the easy run.  That should have been an indicator what was to come.  It was a beautiful day. But a day of sunshine that created more slush on top of a very thick layer of powder.  I readied myself at that top of that run.  I knew I could do it.  After all, I was the queen of the bunny hill and a “natural” on my first time out.

I set off down the hill.  I told my legs to move my skis.  I felt like I was moving through marshmallow creme.  I found I could plow through it if I just went fast and straight down that hill.  That steep hill.  I wondered if I could actually stop.  It was that downhill thing, combined with fast.  That’s what kept me snow plowing in the slush.  And, I kept falling.  And falling.

I kept getting up.  Then, when I found  myself on my backside again after what felt like twenty times, I looked over and saw the mid-mountain shuttle stop.  That little sign on the post, outside a snack bar.  It was just a short walk away.  I got up, and fast, I tell ya.  My move to get out of the skis, was the fastest thing I did that day… I must have looked like a big awkward duck in those boots as I walked past the snack bar and over to the shuttle stop.  I know.  You’re asking me “where was your pride girl?”  I had none.  I didn’t care.  Funny thing… the shuttle driver didn’t seem to be fazed that I was standing there in full gear, begging for a ride down.  I got on, and dreamed of the bunny hill where I had a glorious time skiing like a real person.  And I vowed that skiing on the big mountains wasn’t for me.

I took the easy way out, and haven’t been back since.  I’m really tempted to try cross country skiing though.  I keep looking at all of the beautiful powder and I want to be out in it.  So, I’m working toward being more in shape to do that.  But, downhill snow skiing is not in my future.  I gaze at beautiful snow-covered mountains all winter from the valley.  Unless of course I drive up to the outlet mall in Park City where I take part in my own Olympic event of shopping.

Sometime I’ll have to tell you all about my water skiing experience.  Think fish bait.

I’m going to stitch now.  I hope you are all getting in some great stitching time, and cheering for your favorite Olympians!