The big difference this week was that Mike arrived to join our crusade against gravity and skiers. The conversation before Mike was typified by the phrases:
“It’s cold out here.”
“It’s warm in here.”
“Why isn’t it warm in here?”
“Guess what, it’s snowing.”
“I can’t see anything.”
After Mike had arrived, our repertoire of conversational gambits expanded to include the immortal lines, “Got any cheese?” and “I think I’ve broken my other thumb too.”
He arrived from England in the land of cheese and garlic with eight cans of Heinz baked beans, and a big lump of English cheddar. When not eating cheese, or drinking Sire de Beaupre, Mike was falling down and injuring himself with a plank strapped to his feet. His tendency to gather momentum and his inability to turn made for entertaining viewing, as he sped straight down any slope he encountered to another limb-splaying accident.