When I first met my husband, little did I know that I would become part of such a ski-loving family. Having grown up near the Alps in Austria, generations grew up skiing. And they were all really good at it. I tagged along a few times with the whole family when they came to Utah to visit. I soon learned that my paltry snowplowing skills were no match for the black diamond runs I too often found myself petrified atop of. (OK, they probably were more like really scary blue runs…but still). Soon enough, they learned to relinquish me to the mercy of the green runs for the day (which were conveniently close to the lodge full of hot chocolate and heat.) These days I just skip the snow, awkward boots, and soggy mittens altogether and stay home heating up hot chocolate for everyone else instead. I think we’re all happier that way.
In honor of this skiing family, and with the ski season soon upon us, I found this picture of Ralf’s grandmother. She’s the one on the right. Charlotte sent me this insight into it:
This picture shows Herta and her two sisters-in-law Hilda and Fini in the late 1940s or early 1950s on a ski slope in the town we lived back then. This was a small town of about 1000 people at the outskirts of Vienna. Since many houses were bombed out, my parents had adapted part of a former spa into an apartment where we lived till 1958. You could ski all the way to the house!
Have a great day!
