As has oft been said 'a watched pot never boils'; a fitting lesson to note for you dear reader. Much in the same way as the aforementioned pot seems to not boil whilst being watched, my blog has been simply simmering without boiling over with any new thoughts and experiences.

Well, I'm pleased to say that as we have a gas cooker, it has now begun to change from a liquid to a gaseous state.

At some late point last week, we decided that a week's skiing trip to France would not be out of the question, so began planning in earnest to book. This isn't as easy as one would think, with even sites which call themselves 'lastminute.com' being poor at best at offering options for us.

Through hard work and a strong application of determination, we managed to book our flights, connections and accommodation (at a little hotel in Argentiere called 'Le Dahu'). Now before you ask, this 'Dahu' in question is the one and the same mythical goat-like creature popular in French mountain folklore (you're correct!).

We arrived late on Monday evening, and awoke on Tuesday to an amazing blanket of dust-like snow. Apparently there was 4.25 metres of snow on top of the pistes, so needless to say we went up to test that for ourselves. The skiing was amazing and the scenery beautiful. We'll get some photos into circulation at some point.

Food, however was questionable (at best). My suspicions of food safety and concerns around lack of refrigeration (I know it's -14 outside, but it wouldn't hurt to keep your cheese in a freaking fridge) were confirmed with my small partner in crime succumbing to a poorly stored cured meat-related ailment.

Needless to say Wednesday was spent with aforementioned friend getting to know intimately the surrounds of our hotel room's quaint ensuite. I'll readily note here that I'm not a born and bred 'carer', with my efforts restricted to lending a sympathetic ear and the offer of a blue Powerade.

However, Thursday was another day (of course). With Nicola's recovery slowly underway, we hit the slopes again, and by Friday she was at least hitting second gear. Friday saw us doing some brilliant off-piste powder skiing, whilst adeptly avoiding any potential for avalanches. We had done our homework, just in case we were in avalanche peril, and knew that we could simply shout 'aider! avalanche!' and we'd be A-OK.

The move to Southampton is ahead of us on Sunday, so should be settled there shortly.

So that is all for now, the pot has boiled over and if I don't take it off the stove it will boil dry, and we all know what would come of that...