Tag Archives: skiing

Writing is Like Skiing

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The process of writing is a lot like skiing—for me.

  • It takes practice, practice, practice—for years.
  • I need lessons and critiques from experts.
  • I make lots of mistakes and feel clumsy half the time.
  • Sometimes it hurts—my body and my ego at risk.
  • It’s frustrating.
  • It’s extremely technical.
  • It’s hard to remember everything I’m supposed to be paying attention to.
  • It’s the most fun—ever.
  • There are times when it’s absolutely, crazily, achingly sublime: when it all comes together, and I feel like I’m flying, that I can’t do anything wrong.
  • I’ll never regret doing either.

Think Snow!

I hate summer! What I really mean is, I loathe heat and humidity.

But rather than rant about the negative, I’ll tell you how much I love winter. I’m counting the days till snow.

Start with the basics—you can always put more layers on—you can only take off so many layers before it becomes a problem. Sweaters are wonderful. They’re cuddly, warm, and just generally feel good. I especially like wearing the sweaters I made with my own little hands.

I love being under the bedcovers. I like the weight of covers. I like having them up

around my ears. I love the quilt I spent three and a half years making. I like the bedroom chilly.

Winter is soup season. There’s nothing like homemade soup to warm you up and make you feel loved. Mmm-mmm good.

Winter is homemade bread season. Baking bread is a bit of a hobby, but I’m certainly not cranking up the oven to 450˚ for 50 minutes when it’s already 78˚ in the house!

We see more of friends and family during the winter. In the good old summertime people are busy with other things.

There’s no gardening in the winter.

Winter weather suits my clothes. I like my winter wardrobe much better—usually jeans and something.

Snow—now there’s the real reason for winter. Snow means fond memories of growing up in Minnesota when we used to have real winters—snow cave winters. I remember sitting in my snow cave in the vacant lot next to our house, the sunlight filtering through the snow crystals all around me.

Snow means skiing. For those of you who downhill ski, I need say no more. But if you don’t ski, then know this, it’s the most fun I’ve ever had doing anything!

I took a thirty year hiatus from skiing. Today I wonder why on earth I did that, but at the time it made sense. Money was certainly a factor. Paying tuition for a doctorate seemed like a higher priority, and then I got caught in the working net. But now I teach downhill skiing, and that makes my lift ticket free! At the end of a full day of teaching— and believe me, it’s hard work—I smile and think, I’ve been outside in this beautiful winter weather ALL day. Fortunately, the days when I can’t feel the end of my nose are relatively few.

Winter is my season. Fall is pretty good too, when it’s cool. I feel more awake, more alive. No Seasonal Affective Disorder for me.

The picture above of Skye in the snow was a few years ago when we had a record season snowfall, just over 100″. I’m hoping for a repeat. Don’t listen to my husband, who doesn’t like  snowblowing.

Now, I’ll grant you, summer has it’s good points—but I can’t hear the birds when I’m cooped up in the house, cowering from the  grasping sticky fingers of humidity. Oops! I got negative, sorry. But, really, I think we’ve had a weather inversion this summer with some jungle country. High humidity plus extreme drought—double ick.

Winter—sitting in front of a crackling fire—watching the snow sift down. “Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.”

I guess I do love one thing about summer—going barefoot in the house ALL day.  I’m a little sad when I have to put on socks. But then I remember, Winter’s coming!

© Cristine Eastin, 2012