Yesterday was skiing on Deeside Way and today was ice-skating at Duthie Park. I feel like I’m living at an alpine sports village. It was -8C last night and the model boating pond at Duthie Park froze. Daniel, Scott, and I went down for a skate at lunch.
A photographer from the Press & Journal was there and asked to take a photo of us. He seemed disappointed when I said I couldn’t do any tricks and said in a slightly accusatory tone, “But you have skates?”, as though being in possession of a pair of ice skates automatically turns you into a Jayne Torvill. I got the skates at a charity shop a few years ago and have only used them twice. Nevertheless he took some photos but not long after that a more proficient skater arrived and more than made up for my deficiencies by doing some jumps.
It’s a huge pond and there was virtually no one on it. It’s the furthest I’ve ice-skated in one direction before having to turn a corner. It was very cold and I felt it on my face when we first started but after 10 minutes of skating we had all warmed up.
Even the River Dee is icing over.
Daniel’s snowman looks like she participated in a limbo competition and is now stuck permanently on a lean. There’s some weird physics going on here to prevent her from collapsing over. The cat is wondering whether to attack her arms.