So the 2nd day into our Whistler trip, our pet sitter/dear friend/angel in my life, called to say that there was a bit of a problem. Chum's throne, which dominates the left side our living room, contains 4 open litter boxes because lately, he has not liked using the hooded ones. Well open air litter boxes = Wrigley's-snack-time-free-for-all. Turns out Wrigs got REALLY sick, so sick that our pet sitter was going to take him to Urgent Care. After talking to her and then freaking out because we were 5+hours away, Tom and I kept thinking about what possibly could have made him sick - there were 7 piles of pet messes in the living room alone. Then it dawned on me. I asked her how many dumps had she seen in Chum's boxes and she said none, just pee clumps. So there was the reason. Wrigs was quite sick on Saturday and Saturday night but started to improve on Sunday. She barricaded Chum's area with our kitchen bar stools to keep Wrigs out. And yes, he still tries to get in there. So welcome to our living room:
Now for some fun pics. This is in the little town of Whistler village. It's seriously Smurf village on crack and if you love to ski or don't love skiing, it's a really cute place to visit. My Dad lived in Vancouver for 2 years and my mom and I spent a summer up there and drove to Whistler in July to ski! There is year round skiing on the glacier which boggles my mind. I was only 16 at the time and didn't really appreciate/care about the beauty of the place and it was cold and dank and I just wanted to get away from my parents. So I'm glad I got a chance to go back and see it again with a different perspective.
Tom's been here before too (about 8 years ago) but he swears this time was MUCH MORE fun, especially watching me crawl down the mountain. Ok in my defense, we did actually ski together for almost 5 hours on Saturday, after my blue run melt down. I enjoyed skiing the top of the mountain better because the snow wasn't as slushy but as we started to come down it was so choppy and wet and I fell at least 10 times. And for some reason I tend to fall forward and after my 2nd face plant I realized I'm done with skiing. It's now 5 days later and I'm still sore. Anyway I digress, here's Tom enjoying a hot tea!
And we got this hot mess from an outdoor village vendor. It's called poutine and we added spicy jalapeno sausage to ours (way to test Canadian plumbing) and it was delicious. We also did like the natives and paired it with some Canadian Molson. Or is it Molson Canadian? I don't know. BUT- I do know that we beat the hotel system. How? Well we raided the hotel bar one night and drank 4 Molson's for $24. The next day we hit the liquor store and bought a case for $20 and put back the 4 and drank the rest! No dumb Americans here.
Oh and this was after a night of sushi/sake/Japanese whiskey. I felt the need to do a hand stand (first one on Canadian soil) and thankfully my painfully bruised right wrist - from slamming into another snow bank- same exact thing happened last year!- didn't give out.
Ok I LOVE this pic of Tom. It reminds me of a crazy author's photo (like Stephen King) in the back of a book jacket. But here Tom's just drinking tea and I like to call him the tea toteler when he drinks tea cause he doesn't like coffee.
Here are some mountain shots on the slopes:
Those are Tom's skis and this photo makes my stomach flip. Plus he skied down this hill with our not so small camera inside his ski jacket.
Just to get an idea of the elevation:
Yeah, I'm not a fan of skiing next to rocks and cliffs. These little orange dots aren't much help to me.
However, straight down drop if you keep skiing over the edge:
This pic makes me crap my pants. Tom skied double blacks (fell once) and also skied some moguls. This trip solidified the fact that I have NO desire to ever attempt such feats and if his dreams of doing such things together are now crushed well, then, he should've married Picabo Street.
Ok, it's cinco de Mayo and now I need to put a fire on.