How I became a Ski Hero, and other stories.

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Dean Baxter

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Oct 25, 2019
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Cornwall, England.
Two weeks ago, my wife and I returned from a Skiing trip in Andora to find her greenhouse had taken a battering from Storm Ciara.
Actually, we were quite relieved to find that the damage was confined to her greenhouse (a cheap thing that she'd bought online, that turned out to be made of feeble aluminium and plastic). 'I can fix that', I said.
I didn't get around to it the following weekend as Storm Dennis was in full swing, so I let that do it's worse.
But, this weekend there was a break in the weather long enough for me to put the hateful thing back together. I even made some improvements, so that it might be marginally more robust.
That night I lied in bed and listened to the wind trashing it with renewed gusto.

My wife is risk averse and is frightened of most things...except mountains. While she'd been attacking a black run, I was settling down for some 'Apres Ski' with my sister, Sophie.
I was enjoying my Gluhwein when Sophie, unexpectedly, announced that I was her 'Ski Hero'.
'What are you talking about? I'm not even as good as you' I said.
'Yes, but I've come to realise that Skiing isn't for me,' She said. 'You just go up a mountain, then come down. It's hard work, and I can't be bothered with it...But you just keep going; no matter how many times you fall down, you get up, smiling, and you do it again, and again and again...You're like The terminator.'

That was one of the most profound things anyone has said to me, and I thought it was a lovely model for what we are doing here. None of us were born writers, anymore than I was a born skier, but lets all get up, keep smiling, and do it again.
 
That was one of the most profound things anyone has said to me, and I thought it was a lovely model for what we are doing here. None of us were born writers, anymore than I was a born skier, but lets all get up, keep smiling, and do it again.
Ah, yes, skiing terminators, only my writing would compare to skiing back in the olden days; those days when there was no lift, but when skiers had to plod up a steep hill, in deep snow, while carrying the skis, in the freezn' cold, snow pelting arounds their faces. That's what I do with my writing. Only when I reach the top, do I swoosh down, fall, get up, keep going, until I'm back at the bottom of the run again. But is was great, and fun, and ... I just have to have another go. Back to struggling up hill for that one moment of flying....
 
I love your positivity, Dean. To extend the ski-related metaphor further. The more a writer keeps on going, the more their knowledge snowballs, and they master the twists and turns of an intricate plot like a slalom skier, until one day it will be downhill all the way. I can just see a cluster of agents ringing those cowbells in their desperation to win my attention as I slither across the finish line, ski poles aloft in my multi-coloured romper suit.

PS. It was a shame your tech let you down on Pop-Ups a few weeks ago. Very frustrating for you. Are you hoping to have another try?
 
It's an awful excuse for a greenhouse, but we've become somewhat attached to it. But, yeah, be a Terminator. I've written three books and I am definitely still learning. X
Some of these online China made greenhouses look pretty nice in the online ads, but turn out to be complete rubbish... especially after the first high winds. I hope you get it pieced together well enough that it provides some benefit.
 
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