Lunch

Oh yes.

And this is just the starter.  Things have moved on a lot in the ski-lunch world from cooling chips and a funny looking sausage.

Busy skiing morning going over the hills and far away.  We found the fun river valley (think natural half-pipe) that we had skied down a few years ago.  Much fun, with the boys following Mr B up and down the sides with much shrieking and only a little tumbling.  On the second run through, a ski school of small people fell over in the narrowest section and were skied over by a bunch of boarders, but no-one seemed too traumatised. Meanwhile, concentrating hard on willing my godson not to turn on the icy bit and fall, I turned on the icy bit and fell.  Happily with no serious consequence other than a snowy hat and bruised pride.

And so a race to lunch and a gentle collapse into cool Verdejo, goats cheese salad and cod (should have been duck but TallGirl didn't like the look of her cod when it arrived).  The boys played with icicles until they were warned off by the waiter (we felt foolish for not noticing that it was actually a bit dangerous) and went off to make holes in a snow bank big enough for their heads.

A fine afternoon's skiing too under blue skies, then home for a dip in the pool (Mr B and CarbBoy) a game of pool (us and my godson) and a pizza takeout and nibbles dinner in our room.  Must just note for my own recollection Mr B mistaking circumflex for genuflect in a conversation about a friend at BT.

The kids very much 'played' Mr B tonight - just as he told them to go to sleep a question popped up about Gideon.  Knowing what was coming I got ready for bed.  Sure enough the next 30 minutes saw long explanations of Paul's letters to everyone and then, somehow, they segued into the Mayan calendar.  At that point I had to go in and rescue him.  

This holiday lark is exhausting.  For my digestion if nothing else.