23 March, 2006 (Thursday)

Dinner with the Kirby’s: Arrive late and leave early. Sarah drops by and I help her with her photos.

Tonight we had dinner with our landlords – the Kirby’s. They own a couple of condos in our complex and often stay up here for the odd weekend. We’ve seen them semi-regularly over the course of the season, but I haven’t had many real conversations with them (unfortunately).

Russell is the IT manager of a national engineering and civil planning consultancy. His wife, Anne-marie, is a software developer, and has just begun her own start-up dealing in some specialized medical diagnostic software. They have two children, Emerson (11) and Olivia (9) who are disgracefully smart and articulate. They can also put me to shame on the slopes.


I actually forgot what day it was. All I registered was that it was a weekday and I was working in the village. Days bleed into one another up here, and with night skiing finishing up over the next couple of days I was eager to get out as much as I could. One last hurrah. Bang up my shins and try something different. (Picture: Night skiing - Carla posing)

I’d taken the 168cm Rossignol Scratch FS’s out the past week and thought I’d give the 174cm a go, to see what an extra 6cm feel like under boot. It was just hitting 5:30pm by the time I was kitted out and then Jae gave me a call.
“Hey Ben, where are you? Did you get my message?”
“Hey Jae. Message, ummm… no, afraid I didn’t. I’m just going down to the Bullet. What’s up?” I say.
“You know we’ve got dinner with the Kirby’s tonight? Well, it’s on from 5:30pm. You knew that, right?” Jae sounds a little peeved. As in – “Ben, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?”
“Oh man! No way. I totally forgot. I’ll be up there as soon as I can.” I end the call and stow the phone. What should I do? What could I do?

It's not a simple decision, see I’ve got on these new skis and I’m at the chair lift already. Is it just as fast to take them down the hill once and then get them back to rentals? I'm here already...

So I belt down Sunrun as fast as I can. The skis feel longer and don’t turn as cleanly as I’m used to. But then, they’re park skis so they’re not tuned quite the same as my Monsters. I run them back to the shop and then quick march up the slope to the Ptarmigan, throwing my own skis into the locker and running up the stairs two at a time.

By the time I get back to 311 I’m dripping with sweat and puffing. It’s almost 6pm, I’m already half an hour late. Is it better to turn up late but stinky, or bite the bullet? I figure I might as well add 5 minutes and smell good. I bite the bullet. It tastes kind of metallic. (Picture: Night skiing - I'm skiing backwards!)

Anne-marie accepts my apologies graciously. I’m offered a drink as soon as I walk in and find the condo bustling with voices. Not only is Jae, Dave and Josh in attendance, but we’re also joined by Amie and Josh’s dad. It’s going to be a full family affair. Josh and Amie sit together couply like, and I find myself at the end of their sofa. Olivia is drawn to Amie, being the next youngest female in attendance. We exchange banter for 20 minutes, Russell breaks out the beer which has been cooling in ice on the balcony. Rickards ale – dark but tasty.

Dinner is fantastic. A roast with gravy, fresh vegetables (the asparagus is fresh and crisp), followed by pie and ice cream – your choice of bumbleberry or apple. I try one of each. Dinner finishes. Anne-marie insists that she doesn’t need any assistance cleaning up. It’s 8:20pm and I remember that I’ve booked in a meeting with a work friend, so I excuse myself, promising to return in 20-minutes.

I’ve only got back up when Sarah turns up at the door. She’s our hard-partying, blonde and leggy ticket-tart from Ballarat. Looking pretty and wearing her usual double-layered tops and black pants. I promised her a week ago to help her dump her photos off her camera and put it on CD. We sit down and get to work. (Picture: Dave and Me - Dinner at the Copper Kettle's Snow Ghost lounge)

25-minutes and we’re almost done. The rest of the crew file in. I make introductions. The dinner downstairs has broken up – the kids are tired so they were sent on their way. I feel mortified that I’ve not only arrived late, but also left early and not said proper thank yous to such gracious hosts. But it’s too late. Hopefully there will be time tomorrow.