When Steve tried to teach me how to downhill ski he took me to the top of a challenging intermediate blue run and as I stood with the tips of my skis hanging over the cliff, I said, “THIS IS TOO HARD FOR ME! I AM A
I am not a camper. Growing up, our family holidays consisted of short day trips to local attractions where my brother and I would fight and my mom would lock herself in a bathroom at TGIFriday’s and cry.
I’m kind of a free-style girl. I have never been great at orchestrating structure in the home for our girls and usually just kind of take the days as they come.
It’s become an annual tradition for our family to take part in the Giant’s Head Run, a 5.4 km race that weaves through Summerland, as part of the Action Fest festivities.
I love this photo. It was taken at Agribition in the 80s and something freaked me out (probably a rabid goat or something) and I jumped into my momma’s arms.
Last week I was working in Kelowna and had a bit of time to kill between appointments, so thought I would pop into the mall to buy some big-city treasures.