I've been staying up at my family's chalet (or, Shawlet, since I'm the only one here at the moment) for the last few days while Marc's been in Newmarket working on a thermography job. Now, this place is where I spent my first Christmas and almost every winter weekend until I left for university. One could assume that since I've spent such a large part of my time here, I'd know my way around.
However, there has been a extreme chalet makeover and things are not where they once were.
In total, the newly-designed chalet has tried to kill me twice and really seemed to be invested in getting me as bruised as possible for a friend's upcoming wedding on Saturday.
Both attempts on my life happened at night when I was making my way to the ladies' room (as I'm the only one here). The first night, I was staying in the bedroom upstairs because it has a ceiling fan and it was h-o-t. I don't know if they are especially poking out doorknobs, but one rammed into the side of my hip, which turned me around and I ran smack into the wall, almost chipping my tooth.
Last night, I slept downstairs, and there was a treacherous rubber boot that was sticking out really far out from the shoe rack. Obviously, my huge big toe caught the side of one of the boots and I went flying into the side of the staircase.
So, between the midnight assassination attempts and the higher-than-average bed frames (whose corners have left a smattering of bruises on my thighs) it appears like I have participated in some type of elite forces training camp (or a crossfit class, haha!).
In a few hours, I'll be off to join Marc in Newmarket tonight and then we leave for Tremblant in the morning.
Hopefully my in-law's house isn't in on the hit.
