On her blog she also talks about their skiing holiday and apparently Mother Granger didn't go skiing. That was probably a wise choice!
"There I was, slaloming down the snowy mountain like Eddie the Eagle, when suddenly disaster struck...
Unfortunately the thrifty sunglasses I bought weren't sunglassy enough and with my retinas burned by the blinding sunlight of the alps, I managed to lose sight of my path and ski right off a cliff. Just my luck!
After a 600 foot drop, bashing every rock outcropping on the way down - typical! - I finally collided with the ground with a wet splat, lying in a puddle of my own blood and shattered bones. My husband could probably hear my wailing from his comfortable seat in the ski lodge sauna up on top of the mountain.
A few of the locals passed by and I must've looked an embarrassing state, with my skeleton smashed to splinters and my body an irreparable wreck. I gave a knowing shake of the head and a 'what am I like?' eye roll and the friendly locals smiled politely carried on their walk. Such a lovely town!
I would've text my husband or my daughters to let them know I wouldn't be home for dinner, but my limbs had been torn from my body on the crashing tumble down the mountain - not that you can get service overseas anyway!
After several days, my loving husband finally stumbled across my pulverised body and was ready to carry me to the hospital on foot. Such a drama queen! Luckily we'd brought some biscuits with us in our carry-on bag, so he dragged my boneless jellyfish carcass back to the hotel room and after a lovely cup of tea and a nice English biscuit or two, I was good as new. This is the life."