the hill

Forget all I said about not having a sledding hill near our house.  We have a ski-resort size hill near our house that we've tried unsuccessfully to walk to during snow storms ever since we've lived here.

Well, we finally made it.

This snow was deep enough that Joaquin, Diego and me pulling Carmen on the red plastic sled made it over the briar bushes and through the plowed mountains of snow marking the edge of the road.

When we arrived at the top of the hill, we saw a large family that had already carved out the path for us.  The kids immediately got skittish.  I don't know what their deal is with strangers.  This family of nine or so people shared their sleds with us, gave us water, and doled out the best advice on how to handle the hill, plus they gave us a push on our way down.

Carmen and I tried it out first.  I haven't felt that awesome feeling since I was a kid.  Snow spraying in my face, barreling down the hill straight for the road, but stopping yards shy of it.  Amazing.

Of course, Carmen didn't enjoy it at all.  She didn't cry, but that was her one and only time down the hill.  If this means anything to you, she would rather wait with the strangers and their large dog than try it one more time.

The boys were awful at sledding by themselves.  To their credit, they had never been on a hill this big.  But they had no idea how to steer and would crash head first in the snow seconds after starting.  I took them both down individually and showed them how it's done.  We flew over little mounds and sped down that slope like bobsledders.  Way better than any amusement park in my opinion.

The trek back up was hard.  I'm pretty sure I was sweating after the first time.  I think we only went down seven times before the kids were ready to head home.  WHAT??  Well, someone had cold hands and someone had cold pants.  So I dropped my head and headed back on the 20 minute trudge through the snow to the house...so. much. harder. on. the. way. home.  My euphoria for sledding had hidden how old I actually am.

Anyway, I'm looking forward to the next big snow.  My only warning:  watch out for the power line dangling just above your head on our sledding hill.  It's low enough that Joaquin could have touched it.  He asked what would happen, and I had to convince him it wasn't worth finding out.