When I go to the snow, I like to ski with someone who is more likely to cop an injury, or bruises, than me. And Aunty Verve is my favourite companion for this type of adventure. This year we went to Mt Hotham, with Aunty Darling and her family. I hasten to add that, unlike Aunty Darling, Verve and I do not go regularly enough to be particularly skilful. But with a bit of coaching from Darling, we can generally stay upright on the easy slopes.

At the end of a hard day’s skiing, we enjoy regaling others with our death defying tales; compare a few new bruises or even (heaven forbid) offer advice on skiing, over drinks. Lots of drinks.

At times, Aunty Verve can be a bit dangerous, not on purpose.

There we were, at the base of the summit, waiting at the gate for the chairlift, Verve leans on the gate, which releases and she slides into the path of an on-coming chairlift. I closed my eyes as Aunty Verve and the chairlift connect. I heard a nasty thud, and the empathetic groan from the folk in the queue. The ‘tow-dudes’ efficiently bundled then flung her on the first chair going up. All within seconds.

Meanwhile on another chairlift somewhere. Aunty Darling’s ski fell off and she has managed to dismount the chairlift gracefully, on one ski! You believe?

As for me, I have a reputation for not falling over, the reason (and I don’t necessarily share this with Verve and Darling) is because I can’t get up. Let’s just say I find it easier not to fall over than activate my pelvic floor muscles. And when I told my ‘loving’ sisters about a non-chairlift related spill I took. They both looked at me and said ‘GOOD’.

And THAT, my friends is why I prefer to ski with someone who is more likely to hurt themselves than I am.

Aunty Beads xxx

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