Great Day for Sledding, But How Did Your Sled Ride Go?
I have been trying to remember the last time I went sledding.
Probably when the kids were younger, and I was, too.
So, it's been I'm guessing 25-30 years since I've been compelled to get on a sled, or the lid of a wringer washer (yes, I'm that old) and go in search of the perfect hill on a perfectly snowy day.
There was one place we lived when I was growing up that was on top of a hill and the road to get from the main road to the house was just steep enough to give a nine year old boy and his five and three-year-old brothers a thrill.
For the first time in what seems like a very long time, Saturday was one of those perfectly snowy days when the young and the young at heart headed for the slopes.
The way a sled ride is supposed to go is: you take your sled, find the right incline, you shove off, maybe with your "best friend" running alongside for moral support, and you come to a gentle stop.
But this is the real world, where that kind of sled ride seems a far away dream.
Then again, there are sledding fails, and there's Clark Griswold ...