When he was younger and The Boy went away, I always thought it was good for us both to have a break from each other, so unlike many of his friends parents I didn't call him everyday, nor did I expect him to call me. The result was that we didn't communicate at all. Now as a man I understand that no communication can be a good thing. Clearly with women in our lives,things are different. So now even though he is in the highlands and lowlands of the Lake District we have daily contact. I wonder if you can tell from his texts what our nationality is:
"Munging weather"
"Weather terrible"
"Rain, sleet hail and snow"
"Feet not great"
I think he's having a brilliant time.....
Once upon a time this was about Me and The Boy. The it was Me, The Boy, The Cat and The Cat's Mother. And now, I'm not sure who it's about. How life changes when you least expect it!
Friday 13 April 2012
Wednesday 11 April 2012
I think
I think the man who booked my train tickets hated me. That can be the only reason to explain why I was seated at the back of the Eurostar which meant when we arrived in Paris I had to run the entire length of the train carrying my skis, my rucksack and my holdal to make sure I caught my connecting train.
I think the man who booked my train tickets hated me. That can be the only reason that he reserved me a seat on the top deck of the double-decker TGV, so I had to carry my skis, my rucksack and my holdal up the stairs. And down again at the other end. I've never travelled across France in the daytime and it was truly glorious. Especially with my elevated view.
I think that in these days of modern communications The Cats Mother and I should be able to hold a conversation one in France the other in the US without it cutting out all the time.
I think that when I send photos by bluetooth from my phone to the Tablet computer I'm using to write this I should actually be able to find them again. So this post is without pictures.
I think it was a mistake to say all PR s are dreadfulwhen sitting next to a fellow PR in the ski chalet. She may also hate me.
I think I was incredibly lucky to arrive in the blazing sun, have snow overnight and perfect conditions the next day.
I think I will return home several kilos heavier after eating from dawn to dusk.
I think I feel sorry for The Boy who is marching across the Lake District in the wind, the rain and the cold
I think I'm very lucky to be spending a week with some very dear old friends.
I think the man who booked my train tickets hated me. That can be the only reason that he reserved me a seat on the top deck of the double-decker TGV, so I had to carry my skis, my rucksack and my holdal up the stairs. And down again at the other end. I've never travelled across France in the daytime and it was truly glorious. Especially with my elevated view.
I think that in these days of modern communications The Cats Mother and I should be able to hold a conversation one in France the other in the US without it cutting out all the time.
I think that when I send photos by bluetooth from my phone to the Tablet computer I'm using to write this I should actually be able to find them again. So this post is without pictures.
I think it was a mistake to say all PR s are dreadfulwhen sitting next to a fellow PR in the ski chalet. She may also hate me.
I think I was incredibly lucky to arrive in the blazing sun, have snow overnight and perfect conditions the next day.
I think I will return home several kilos heavier after eating from dawn to dusk.
I think I feel sorry for The Boy who is marching across the Lake District in the wind, the rain and the cold
I think I'm very lucky to be spending a week with some very dear old friends.
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