Wednesday, 22 February 2012

It's practically impossible to look at a penguin and feel angry.

There are lots of people listed with the name Joe Moore. One of them said that.

See what he means?

Yes, I'm in a land of ice and snow, but no there aren't any penguins.

Except, that is, for Penguin Pete. My husband.

On dry land, his feet are turned out at 10 to 2. I wouldn't exactly say he waddles but he's not the skinniest man on the planet.

On the ski slope, he's poetry in motion. Elegant, graceful, effortless. The equivalent of a penguin once it gets to the water.

Oh, and penguins mate for life, don't they? "That doesn't surprise me that much because penguins all look alike. It's not like they're going to meet a really great looking new penguin someday."

I am, for the record, not penguin-like either on land or on snow. More a cross between Bambi and a contorted goblin, if I'm honest.

This is where we were skiing today:

Except there were more people.