Monday, August 22, 2005

Wind, skiing and goats

It was just a bit too windy for tennis this morning so I called it off. It's hard enough trying to play with no wind but when it's gusting strongly there's no fun at all.

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Raymond, our friendly insurance agent called first thing to check that were all right and to see if we had any problems as a result of the fire on Friday. Wasn't that nice?

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Glyn pops round and we start to discuss skiing opportunities this winter. We looked at the internet site for Prat Peyrot, which is about an hour and a half away and where you can ski, from mid December to mid March. The conversation moves onto trying to decipher the French meaning of some of the words on the site. When I asked what I thought was a simple question, to be told: "that means downhill skiing." I looked perplexed. When I asked what is meant by downhill skiing, someone, not a million miles from my heart, continued to repeat, several times: "downhill skiing." Now I have to say that nothing irritates me more, when I express ignorance of something, than someone who continues to repeat the same phrase as if by repeating the phrase I would somehow be beaten into submission and hence see the light. It's at this point that I retaliated and made the somewhat obvious statement that pretty much all skiing is downhill, and that the last time I looked, uphill skiing went the way of the dinosaurs, it just never caught on. It's usually at this point that I am accused of being rude and a smart arse to boot. OK, so call me rude, but when I don't understand something, please take a little time to explain things a little more clearly, and don't just keep repeating the same word or phrase. If I didn't understand it the first time then there is little chance that I will understand it the twentieth. OK?

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And now, as if I haven't seen it all, a goat appears at the bottom gate. It has followed our new visitors. Max is understandably very excited, never having seen a goat before, and is jumping up and down and barking on one side of the fence, whilst the goat stands totally unperturbed on the other. They are nose to nose through the fence, smelling each other and seemingly both enjoying the experience. I have no idea where this goat came from but it looks cute and Becky (15) immediately decides that she wants one. Ronan offers to take the goat back and, grabbing hold of one of its horns, leads it back whence it came. This has been a very eventful few days in more ways than one.