It is also that time of year when I try to reconcile an ever-expanding definition of term with fitting in a skiing holiday, while refusing to go at New Year because I want to spend the time with my family and sniffing at late-season Scandinavia, beloved by Scandinavians because the weather’s actually nice, because it is too warm. This is stupid. While cold snow has the advantage for wimps like me of being a bit slower, and I do not enjoy ice, there are also advantages to being able to feel your hands after lunch. Alternatively, I could go really early in Jan. when it would still be freezing, and very soon after Christmas.
As with so many things, this is basically an issue of getting my act together and making up my mind. Which means I am consumed by “But what if I make the wrong decision?” That is stupid. There is no ideal decision, because I can’t go on holiday in mid-February. So I just have to pick one of the choices I do have and stop fretting.
Meanwhile, in the land of WTF, the Three Dales ski resort moves a bit closer: the entrepreneurial farmer of Halifax has got his hands on snow-making equipment. The mind boggles.