The Queen of Freak Accidents Goes Cross Country Skiing

I'm not exaggerating when I call myself the Queen of Freak Accidents.
Example 1: I wake up from an excellent night's sleep and as I place my foot on the floor, I somehow hit an errant toothpick at such a bizarre angle that it halfway impales my big toe
Example 2: I open the freezer door and a can of frozen orange juice falls directly onto my ankle with enough force to create a 2 cm laceration

Being such a natural born klutz, the idea of going skiing seems like an egregious tempting of fate.  [The only time I ever skied was on the front lawn of a psychiatric hospital for adolescents where I was an undergraduate volunteer].  But Dr H & his wife have such a lovely collection of old-fashioned wooden skis, and there's a beautiful ski park nearby in the Okanogan National Forest, and they have promised there will be no head trauma or broken bones.  So I venture out with Dr H in gorgeous 29 degree weather, and the cross country ski trails are freshly groomed, and the snow is perfect.  Turns out that I did develop some semblance of balance and ability to shift weight during my secret past history of ice skating (which is another story in itself)...after about 20 minutes, I was coordinating the skis and the ski poles reasonably well, and while I did experience a few near-falls, I did not crack my skull or fracture my femur.

Now I can practice skiing in the yard, where I recently spotted a proliferation of deer tracks.  Once in a while, in early morning,  you might glimpse a few deer nibbling on something near the driveway.  When they see humans, they leap gracefully over the fence and disappear into the forest...