Saturday, January 26, 2008

All Good Things…

… must come to an end. They have universally conspired to come to an end in January.

I have been lying ill in bed for the past week, sweating… freezing… coughing… I fear it is consumption. Mrs. BB tells me it is over-consumption. My run of good health has come to an end, as have many other things.

My poor health is my own fault, other things unfortunately I have no control over.

Following the merry making of the holiday season, we had visitors in the mountains. Loads of skiing and more merriment prevailed. Major Pom and Atticus are two very good friends from London who could not resist inventing new yoga positions with Girl’s very fit yoga teacher.

The yoga was practiced mostly after midnight, when it more was difficult to stand or balance, lying splayed on the rug in front of the fireplace. This newly invented position called the “starfish” was most illuminating. The “kissing starfish”, involving one yoga participant doing the starfish on top on another was even more illuminating.

It is the first time I have seen young men so keen on yoga. The red wine and aquavit had begun to take its toll.

Girl and I moved on to a road trip in the Alps. A metre of powder at Le Grand Montets at Chamonix on the glacier d’argentiere and we were spent. I had the strength of Montgomery Burns. I could hardly raise the fork to my mouth to sample the Michelin starred delights in front of me. My claret was supped with lifeless regard. My situation was clearly deteriorating.

On to Verbier, blue skies, good conditions but no powder. Verbier is not as chi chi as St. Moritz or Megeve, but is a favourite with Brits, Norwegians, and now the Russians. You can be assured that when the Russians arrive anywhere, bling and bad taste go large. The streets are congested with even more Range Rovers driven by peroxide stick icicle queens. I avoid the $10,000 USD cocktail at the new chavtastic Coco’s. In the end, I settled for LemSip, a blanket, and a sofa by the warm fire. The end is nigh.

Whilst on my deathbed, offline, incapacitated and hallucinating, the global stock markets dumped, a deal I have painstakingly fostered for 11 months heads south, and…and…

Poor me!

The sun is shining today. We are expecting new visitors this weekend in the mountains. I have stopped coughing oysters. My deal looks recoverable. The stock markets are largely irrelevant and present great opportunities.


Thank god I was born contrarian!


I really must try to make it into the office, people are beginning to wonder.

Beaverboosh

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

Sorry to hear about your bad health. Perhaps a go of my Caption Contest will give you something to smile about. The winner gets a free month of ad space. Go on, do it. Do it like Amy Winehouse on Crack.

Anonymous said...

Gosh, BB, that sounds absolutely dire! Did my take on the markets the other day depress things even further for you? I certainly hope not. I say there's nothing a day in the mountains won't cure.

Anonymous said...

Oh, poor you! It's okay, you will recover ;-)

So, you actually went to France? How did you find it?

And no rush to go back to work... enjoy a day of non-sick sick day!

Anonymous said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Anonymous said...

you have stopped coughing oysters?

*phew* I am so relieved :-)