In which enthusiasm outruns ability

For the last four years, ever since Cheekus was old enough to stand up on skis without cracking it, the big family extravagance has been to go skiing once a year. This year we stayed at Feathertop Lodge with another family. The kids made a tribe and the grownups talked, drank wine, watched the footy and skiied in various child/adult combinations. It was fabulous.

We went up a couple of days before the lovely Gs, bundled our lot into ski school and took off. The snow was powdery newfallen on deep base, the sky was blue, there was almost nobody else there and it took us very little time to get our ski-legs again. Soon we had warmed up enough to do Father Fosters, a nice tight little low-end black run.

Even though the CFO is eight inches taller than me, fit and naturally athletic I was skiing so well (really) I thought it was time to put him in his place.

"I saw your leg bend sideways" said the CFO helpfully.

Going up and coming down

Today we went up to Monbulk for a belated Mothers' Day celebration with my lovely mother-in-law. There are more matriarchs in our families than can be visited in a single day.

First I took Cheekus Weekus to a rollerblading party at Caribbean Rollerama. For some unfathomable small-boy reason he spent the first ninety minutes refusing even to acknowledge he was at a party. Thankfully he eventually thawed out and whizzed very happily and competently around the rink with the others. I had promised Princess Pea I would skate with her, so I did. Most of my left palm is black-and-blue because that's what I mostly landed on. (The CFO took Running Boy to his footy match, which sadly the Under 10 Blacks lost. Again. It looks like being a character-building season.)

We love being up in the hills but usually we go straight to Granny May, and straight back. Today I was behind the wheel, the only adult in the car and I went off the straight-and-narrow in search of fresh chestnuts! There were only muted objections from the back seat. Bella Vista has lovely fat glossy nuts and also hazels and walnuts. It must be well-known in some circles as there seemed to be a constant stream of people going in buying kilos of them. Later the kids and I played Giant's Treasure with a slightly souvenired golfball while the CFO and his Mum chatted. Happy, happy day.

She was right

Stephanie Alexander in her excellent first edition of The Cook's Companion warns against mandoline slicers. She says they are far too dangerous for the home kitchen and recommends buying a "simple and ingenious" alternative. I have never been able to locate one of these, as Stephanie does not give its name and describes it simply as a "Japanese shredder and slicer".

I covet(ed) the ability to do paper-thin potato slices for pizza and crisps, make neat juliennes of carrot and daikon. About a week ago I bought myself a small inexpensive mandoline.

Last night I decided to make pithiviers for dessert. It was awkward slicing the apples with the hand-held finger guard until about halfway through, so I decided to take the first few slices off each piece by holding it directly in my hand. You all know where this is going, don't you?

I've lost the top 3mm off my right-hand middle finger but didn't hit or chop the bone, so emergency just patched me up and sent me home. Right now I can't drive or type properly, or swim until it heals "in its own time" as the emergency doctor told me, and I will forever have a flat-topped finger.

And of course, a few minutes beforehand I had been lecturing the kids about never touching the damn thing, because it was so sharp! (At least the pithiviers, which I cooked when I got home from emergency, were fabulous.)