Snow Bliss

I remember when I was younger, a three hour car trip with my family, squashed in the back with my two sisters arguing over personal space raids, would be three hours too long.

I thought about this when I mentioned to Boy, three hours into the journey (all up it takes four hours to get to the mountain) how much I used to hate long car trips - but how quickly time was passing during this particular one and how much I was enjoying myself. He was generously letting me play the cds of my choice (which included Boney M, Queen, Michael Jackson and Boyzone) and I was in the process of feeding the CD player Queen's Greatest Hits.

It was snowing gently when we arrived, which was exciting for me as I have never seen snow falling before. The field at the bottom of the mountain was dotted with snowmen and Boy promised me that we would make one later, which happened to be the next afternoon. I found out then, that making a snowman (I had never made one) was more hard work than fun.

"But it's all worth it in the end!" Boy told me when I pointed out my observation, "you have your very own little man!"

In the end, the most I did was put some ears on our little man, and gave him an eye which later fell out (and Boy knocked back in), but when standing back to admire our handiwork we had to agree that our snowman was impressive - leafy ears and all.

Later that evening, after a banana and bacon gourmet pizza dinner at a little pizzeria, we sat in the TV room sipping wine from cups (an older guest had told us too late where the wine glasses were kept) and watching "Dangerous Obsession", a show about an English girl missing in Japan.

When the parent-types that had been previously hanging out by the fire (and we were trying our best to avoid - one, a woman, had earlier told me my cream and custard filled danish was a "calorie replacement") started slowly trickling into the TV room, we decided it was time for bed and stumbled clumsily to our rooms where we thought we were breaking the lodge rules because we were under the impression that "carousing" meant hot sex.

I had forgotten to drink water before I went to bed, but woke up the next morning to find that a cheap-wine-hangover was the least of my worries. The countless falls while snowboarding through the "big people's" run down the mountain (and I was incredibly proud that I had done this instead of timidly catching the chair lift back down) and walking around in heavy snowboard boots took their toll and, while Boy told me it wasn't, I was convinced that my butt was severly bruised, and my leg and arm muscles were on strike.

I told him he should go without me, and get a good days snowboarding done (he had spent the past two days helping me, which I felt bad about but he insists that he enjoys it) and after much reassurance that I was going to be okay by myself, he finally agreed to go. I had two very strange nightmares in his absense (which I can only blame on too much sex) - one in which someone was trying to break into our room (I woke up screaming), and another where a Rottweiler was attacking me and I couldn't get away.

It was in the middle of the Rottweiler dream that I heard the door knocking. Still weary from my first dream, I hesitantly opened it to find Boy standing there with a greasy white bag (eclairs from the chocolate eclair shop down the road - which tasted to me like whipped cream and chocolate icing on stale bread, but Boy seemed to enjoy them). He took off his wet clothes and snuggled into bed telling me the weather was terrible and it had been far too cold for his liking at the mountain.

Two hours later, showered and packed we loaded the car and began our trip back home, stopping at the supermarket to buy sandwich stuffs to eat our leftover bread with - which we finished at a halfway picnic spot beside a paddock of noisy cows. I had only the Boyzone CD left to play, but that was okay. I found myself lazily drifting off during the last few songs and just barely remember Boy taking out the cd and tuning in the radio.

I woke up shortly before we arrived at his house, thanked him again for being so wonderful and apologised for falling asleep (I had meant to stay awake so I could keep him awake in case he started to nod off).

He smiled, told me how cute I was and that he loved me, and had me in such a state of bliss that even the fact that our short holiday was over could not ruin my mood.

previous - next; thanks, diaryland.