The 6 hour summer holiday

Yesterday, I took a day off of work.  I dropped the boys off at camp.  Anja was with her sitter and I was faced with… 6 hours all by myself.  It was what I’ve coined “my 6 hour summer holiday”: time to do whatever I wanted, to fit in a few last hours of play before going for surgery on Tuesday.

Kicked it off with a run on one of my Whistler favourites, River Runs Through It.  In a way,  I was scouting if prior to letting the kids ride it.  Normally, I run with music but for some reason, I decided against it – and a good decision it was… some rustling bushes stopped me in my tracks and it took seconds before the bear charged towards me then stood up.  My throat still hurts from yelling at it.

A peaceful lunch in the village while reading a magazine, a ride with the boys up the Callaghan and then a while at the lake with the kids before calling it good.  Not bad for 6 hours, in 34 degrees.

I *heart* summer.

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Author: Christine Cogger

I am not a writer. I like my kids, coffee, running around and reading about you. I live in the most incredible part of the world and am lucky enough to live some pretty great adventures.

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