Double dipping

I got greedy today.
By the time I'd finished work I was positively r a r i n g to go : my giddy goat-ness for technique from yesterday seemed to have thankfully eradicated itself + I found myself stampeding down terrains once more : must've been the music. But as I grappled around with my precious camera perilously high up on the chair lift capturing my love affair of these fine weapons of altitude whilst gazing down to the trees below, I wondered if I shouldn't hang my Downhills up for the day + strap on the old Cross Countries. After my darling man had made me a pancake rammed full of deliciously delightful Curry-of-Conn, I continued my surge out into the shimmeringly dreamy sparkling beams of the fading afternoon sun. I really respect every athletic local who I passed, for not laughing in my face because I really did look like a complete fool when I attempted these long trekking lunges. Not far into my journey, I couldn't help snickering to myself when a woman of mature years walked past me, with a dog scarcely larger than a rat scampering in my path + induced the tenth tumble within the 30 minute mark. But every time I'd gather myself together again + once more embark on a powerfully wistful + thought provocative jaunt meandering through forests and clearings of snow invitingly resembling a billion shining diamonds. As I heaved my way though heaped snow up to my tum towards the chalet, I soon realised that the whole gang of clients had positioned themselves into prime viewing stances from various platforms making up every level of the chalet: all adopting the same bewildered, but highly amused looks; or was it just pity?! I'm not sure what on earth I was thinking approaching the Chalet [off duty]in this manner, I would imagine it's because I've gazed across at sliding skiers out of the spectacularly designed high scale angular windows on countless occasions ,but been far too ladened with bottles of bleach + Kitchen Sparkle- with not a hope of joining these formidable figures. And the idea to me, of skiing as a form of transport, is such a romantically fond one, I've entertained the concept of "skiing to the Chalet"- so finally, I did it. [Plus I needed to steal some citrus fruit for cocktail hour for Emma + Anna that evening]