What I Did On My Winter Vacation

I can't ski on a good day.  I haven't had a good day in years.  My husband loves to ski.  I'm not sure my granddaughters "love" it, but they're pretty good at it.  So this is how I ended up in frigid temperatures watching the world pass me by.

My husband knows I'm still recovering from a broken ankle, but he felt compelled to make reservations at a ski resort anyway.  Why he didn't book a trip to the Caribbean I'll never understand.  Lounging on the beach--now that's something I'm sure I'm capable of doing.  But whatever.

I try to be a good sport.  (That's different from being an athlete.  I'm pretty sure I'm not one of those.)  At first I let my husband convince me that a ski boot would support my weak ankle enough to allow me to risk breaking a new set of bones.  Then one night several weeks before the trip, I found myself waking up in a panic at the thought of desperately trying to snowplow my way to a stop before I hurtled to the bottom of the mountain.  That's when I realized this idea of skiing wasn't the best idea I've ever had.  So I put my still-tender foot down.  I would not be putting my swollen ankle into a tight boot to slide down a mountain for anyone.

Contrary to what my family might say, I'm really not the type to demand that others change their lives to accommodate me.  I would still be willing to take a ski vacation, just not willing to ski. So now the dilemma for me was how to best utilize this time away from home.  (I did make it clear to my husband that he would be expected to take the girls skiing with him, at least for part of each day.  Seemed like a fair trade-off to me.) 

I haven't worked outside my home (or inside either, if we're being honest) since my oldest granddaughter was born over twelve years ago.  I wanted to make the most of this vacation, not just pack my mundane existence in a suitcase and take it on a road trip.  As luck would have it, this was the year my husband decided to try a different resort property far from the heart of the action.  So spending my days wandering the village wasn't practical.  Aha!  Maybe I could use this time to do some crafting projects!  It would require me to drag half the contents of  my house to a far-away location, but it would be worth the trouble.  I would use the time to actually create fun things without feelings of guilt; after all, you can't clean a house that's hundreds of miles away.

Then we were there.  Smack in the middle of reality.  It was no longer "what if" but it was now what it was.  And what it was was just another version of My Life.  We got up rather early each morning, got the kids dressed and fed, then my husband and kids were off living their lives. After they left I showered, spackled my face as best I could, and fought with my unruly hair.  Yes, so far this was looking a lot like the life I led back home.

I barely had time to cope with the inevitable depression that happens after I spend 30 minutes in front of a mirror when it was time to meet my family for lunch.  Now mind you, I never knew what time they would find themselves both hungry and near a restaurant, so I spent my "free time" waiting for their call.  Then the rush was on to catch a shuttle bus to meet them at whichever location was convenient for them.  And as I totally expected, my youngest granddaughter had had enough skiing by lunchtime every day.  So it was back to the condo for her and me.

Guess what I did every afternoon?  I taught my granddaughter to use my Cricut machine.  

And when the slopes closed every evening, my other granddaughter wanted me to teach her to use it, too. 

Did I use my vacation to create fabulous things that I would be eager to post on my blog?  No. Did I relax and enjoy quiet time alone?  Not a chance.  But I hope what I did manage to create over that long weekend were lasting memories with my granddaughters.  Yes, you might even say I spent the time Creating Fond Memories.  And it was all good.