Big White is AWESOME! Coming back next season... part du...

So I just finished this awesome blog on living here, coming back next season, I did some trash talking of Pete aka Peter Barton. Awesome trash talking, I referenced Peter's inability to use correct grammar (your rubbish at grammar Pete). See that was an example of trash talking Pete...

I also had great nuggets like 'Peter is in intents training... which means he intends to train... but just isn't - Pete is doing an OCR soon... 20 miles, 200 obstacles... 200!!! Which is close to a million! Well closer than 199 anyway. I think you will agree... this sounded much better the first draft...

*No, I don't like cleaning either.

I also provided some advice on coming back next season... cleaning*, damage**, references, applying early... great great stuff, the best stuff (almost Trump-esque). I had pictures with great captions, it included advice on appropriate times to contact your landlord (hardly every) stuff that is not your landlord's responsibility to fix - blocked toilets, light bulbs, blocked toilets, locked doors blocked toilets etc blocked toilets etc... you know what the emphasis is on.

**Yes, damage... I do notice.

But... my blog did not save. Can you imagine the words that I used... 'bugger' was one, 'aghhh...' another. Effin foggin eck. Hours I spent writing a crappy blog, hours wasted... 

You know what I did?

I didn't, didn't go for a run up the mountain instead of trying to write it all again (cos we're not allowed). Up the mountain and ruminated... yes, yes... I chewed cud. Foggin eck, that was hard too... It happens to me every year. Every year I say I'm not getting fat this season and every year I ignore myself. So, I have to fix it, which means lots of exercise and less beer... bugger.

Yes it is me, no, I'm not that skinny anymore.

If you are coming back next season it is probably for the same reason I live here, it makes me happy. 

Here is a deep deep question for you - are you happy? Think about it for a minute - are you happy and what is the source of that happiness? Now don't be under any illusion that I live in this constant state of bliss, I don't. Sometimes... work sucks, or my wife is a lovely (wait... I know it doesn't make sense, but she reads it.)  or I am sick (or hungover)... or (more often than not) my tenants are a pain... I also have two dogs, let me correct that, two great dogs...

But they can be a pain too. The big dude (Hobbes) is a labradoodle and for the most part I am a great owner but sometimes... I am a bad owner (no bad dogs you see...) sometimes Hobbes likes to run off... run off and go garbage diving. Yes, yes. Now there are usually two consequences to this activity - the first is a mess that he creates. The second is more of a delayed response... he gets sick, or gets the poopies (I was gonna say shits but this is a family friendly blog), now for some reason these poopies are time sensitive - middle of the night is a very popular time. Sometimes he lets us know, sometimes... not. 

Because how he lets us know is very subtle... Imagine 2am, you're asleep, you have had a couple of beers, or wine, after skiing hard all day, fatigue, alcohol, comfy bed...? Now your dog creeps into the room, sits down and starts to chomp his chops... ruminate if you will, (without the cud). Sometimes this will wake us, sometimes we get other results. And of course we (wifey and I) play the 'pretending to be asleep' game... cos let's face it who wants to get up at 2am, get dressed, go outside in -20 and pick up poop? It is a dangerous game though, for the obvious reasons.

Our dogs get out lots, exercise lots - running, biking, hiking around the mountain (no, not the dogs, wifey and I). The dogs will follow er... doggedly... mostly. Little nutter dude (Pixel) - Absolutely. Big dude... sometimes he can disappear... 

A story - Around about mid season I was up early and it was the perfect day for a run in the trails. The snow was firm with a 2-3cm layer of that really light fluffy stuff - great for my old knees. The air was crisp, with those ice crystals still lingering in the air. I have Hobbes, my music (trance... always) and we head off to the Black Forest. I usually walk the first km or so, warms my joints, Hobbes does his business (easier to walk with a full doggy bag) and then once on the trails (behind the day lodge) I will start, gently at first.

This way Hobbes...

It is the perfect day, legs are strong, breathing is good, music, steady pad of my feet on the trail, crystals glinting in the crisp air, dog following behind me... wait... dog...? Where is that dog...? "HOBBES!" I yell... not just once... but... nothing. I turn around and (whilst cursing... loudly) back track - he can't of gone far... can he? I find where his tracks stop, turn and disappear... for fogs sake.

I start to follow, not at my original pace... no, screw my knees, I'm gonna catch that dog.

You know when you see a dog on or off leash? They don't walk in a straight line, they wend (FYI present tense of 'went') their way, sniff this, sniff that, pee here, pee there... slow(ish). Yes? Well I'm following the trail and there is no wending his way gently down to Happy Valley, no... he is straight line... and moving fast. I'm moving fast, well it is now downhill and I am on a mission. The run is no longer fun, gentle, relaxing... no not at all. I am now gasping like a red faced, unfit, middle-aged chubster trying to play soccer with his kids... effin dog. I get down to Happy Valley and lose the trail - a groomer has gone by. I do the circling to find the trail thing you see in movies and eventually find it again. It has since started snowing heavy so the fresh tracks are now clear... but the older tracks are filling in...

Hobbes!!!

Ha! He has gone up here... up this steep slope into the Edge development... I follow... but now I guess he thinks he has lost me, slowing, wending, walking around all the cars, up to the doors... bugger, lost him again... back and forth, back and forth... up the hill, back down, other side, heading out - I chase. Into the Timbers, lost again, up the snowbank, across to Spyglass... through the middle of Spyglass, out onto the road... where did the trail go? Getting cold... Ha! I find fresh ones heading back to the Edge, they cut right into Southpoint, onto the patio and then back up to the Edge... damn dog. Fresh tracks, he must be close, wending around the cars again, walking to the doors...

Now, seeing a dog doing this, you probably wouldn't think twice... how about a lunatic running around the development staring at the floor, ranting to himself... disappearing but back again 15mins later... a bit more of a concern...?

Busted!

Actually, by this time I was no longer mad, I was hunting and it was kinda fun... kinda. I scramble up another snowbank... and there he was - "Hobbes!" He freezes, deer in headlights... caught. And he knows eh, he knows he is in trouble. Not only is he in trouble but he never got any garbage - Ha! Good owner!

We head home... I keep him close, real close.

Sólido Properties (yes, you can click on this link) is the bad owner of two very good dogs, property owner, property manager, property cleaner (reluctant), property renovator (poor), ski instructor (er ditto), beer enthusiast, very happy and and and a blog writer (if you hadn't guessed) and if you have got this far (really...? do you not have anything better to do...?) you are probably looking for a place for next season... if so, go to this link. I may... or may not respond... keep chasing me, yes, I know I am rubbish.