I grew up in Sherwood Park, Alberta which is a suburb just east of Edmonton. When I was a kid I would spend hours playing in the snow, building forts with my brother. My friends and I would go door to door with our shovels in hopes of shoveling sidewalks and driveways for extra money. I remember being called in for dinner and not wanting to go inside. With my cheeks rosy from the cold, I would finally be coaxed inside and my dad would help me get out of my boots and snowsuit. As I got older, those hours outside playing in the yard turned into ice skating with my friends OUTDOORS--like it should be. If no ice skating...then surely there was a snowball fight going on somewhere. When I was in high school, we would go to a friends house who had a hot tub and soak in it while surrounded by snow. Sometimes this would lead to jumping in a snowbank and then back in the hot tub. Insane? Perhaps. But oh so much fun!
I think any of us who grew up in the cold knows that feeling of excitement--you're a kid and that first snow falls...and you know the next day you will be at the nearest hill to go tobogganing. I remember so many winter days all bundled up, headed out crazy carpet in hand...not a care in the world. One year I was at a weekend church camp. On Saturday, a bunch of us were tobogganing on a hill behind the cabins. My friend and I decided to go down the hill on huge innertube. We both laid on our stomachs and got a big push from a friend...and we were off! Problem was--there wasn't as much snow as we would have liked and there were some grass patches here and there. Quick math: Two girls+innertube+downhill+non-snow covered grass patches=we didn't make it very far. The tube hit one of those patches and stopped--and we didn't. I landed first, which would have been okay except my friend landed sort of on top of me--and my arm, which was almost at the same time I had put my hand out to brace myself. Combining the impact of me landing--and then her landing on my arm...I heard snap crackle, pop. Not exactly a good sound. I was in shock at first, but by the time I got to the top of the hill and looked at my arm I knew it was bad. All the color went from my face and then the pain hit. It. Was. Horrible. I was off to the hospital which resulted in an overnight stay. I had broken my wrist and the orthopedic surgeon needed to perform a closed reduction. But because the break was so bad they had to put me under. There is no way they could have set that thing with me awake. At any rate, I am not sure I have been tobogganing since.
One of my favorite things is when it is a cold crisp winter night, ground covered in snow and a clear sky filled with stars. The cover of snow makes everything glisten and quiet. Going for a walk during that time is one of my favorite things, so beautiful and peaceful. Another thing I always loved was sitting warm and cozy inside watching a storm outside.
Chris and I experienced some pretty wicked snow storms out in Boston. In fact--the first month we were there we got slammed with a crazy storm. 24 inches in one night...our inaugural Nor'easter! One year when we were living in Revere, we had a crazy storm and we had somehow left out shovel behind at our old place. It had been snowing so much that day and night there was no way we were driving anywhere to get a shovel. So we bundled up and we headed to Walgreens with the dog. The snow was so deep the only place to walk was in the grooves in the road from cars. Don't worry--at that point there were no actual cars out since there was way too much snow. The half mile walk took forever, but we got our shovel and it was actually a lot of fun.
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