Then we had an alarm because my daughter-in-law suddenly started to run a very high temperature; she had septicaemia after my grandson was born and could have died, so this time she needed to go off to hospital very quickly to make sure it wasn't the same again. My son took me back to my flat for my night things in case they kept her in, but after tests, they decided it was just a virus and sent her back home. So I was able to return to my flat and my own bed.
The emails I received from Paul every day revealed mixed enjoyment from the skiing. Breckenridge had been great in January as usual, but the snow in Canada where he went later was very poor this year, and he wished he had stayed in Colorado or Utah. He was on a Telegraph ski holiday with a British ex-Olympic skier; he took the same holiday last year to different resorts in the American Rockies and it was a great success, but Canada this year certainly wasn't. There wasn't enough snow, in fact it rained every day he was in Whistler so it was alternately porridge or sheet ice. I was very glad not to be there! Other Canadian resorts he also visited were not a lot better, and Paul looked forward to being back in Colorado. He says he won't ski in Canada again - though I think it could be a shame to make such a judgement on one bad year.
At least spring had started in Manchester. When my grandson and I walked to and fro across the local park to take him to school, we admired the snowdrops which were flourishing in January and early February.
Later in February, we admired the crocus.
This gave us the opportunity to practise lots of colour words - purple is not a word a small child often needs.
Paul left the ski resorts in Canada and moved back to Colorado, staying at Copper Mountain, where the snow was superb. He was introducing the resort to a friend he usually skis with in Utah when he failed to notice a tree root, trapped his ski, and twisted his knee. The resulting damage to his knee led to his being advised not to ski any more this season, and he had to come home a month early! I caught a train down to London to meet him and, once his ski clothes were all washed and packed away until next year, we drove back up to Manchester, where school half term was starting.
We planned to take our grandson out a lot during his week's holiday to relieve our daughter-in-law, but it was not to be; our poor little grandson got measles, and spent the whole week in quarantine and confined to the house.
He was quite spotty, as you can see from the artwork taken to school as part of his 'what I did in my holiday' project. Don't ask me why his hair is as long as his arms and longer that his legs, and why he has no nose; I think he focused on all the spots!
Once he was back to school again, we had visits from a friend of my daughter-in-law and my sister, and then as the month ended, it was time for another visit back home. I am responsible for a rental flat belonging to the development where I am still a director, so it was time for inspection of it and renovation planning so it could be let again.
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