Sledding on the Cusp of Spring

It's been the coldest winter I can remember here in Southeastern Missouri. We've had numerous days with temps in the single digits and even well below zero and we've had snow cover for much of the winter. That is unusual here. Typically we have one or two good snowfalls, but the snow lasts no more than a few days. And we always have a January thaw. This year's January thaw lasted one day -- my birthday. It was a nice birthday gift, but far too short. The next day the temperatures plummeted back down.
I shouldn't complain. Truthfully, I love cold weather and I usually cheer the snow. However, this year's snow was just not great for playing. Either it was too fluffy or it was just too cold outside to do any more than the necessary chores.

So last Monday, with the promise of temperatures rising above the freezing point later in the week, we figured we'd better get out and enjoy that snow one way or another before it was gone for good. We got our sleds and headed out.

John made the first run and cut the rut. It was a bit slow, but not too bad. Then I made my first run -- pretty good, especially considering there was only about 3 inches of snow on the ground.

John's second run was faster and mine even faster. That's it up above. And no -- I did not try to run John down, despite what some might think.


We've been together over 25 years. If I wanted to take him out, I would have done it already. Besides, where would I get half of my story ideas without him? He's the idea man. I'm the wordsmith. It's how we roll -- or tumble as the case may be.

We flew down that hill a few more times, until both of us were breathless and our bottoms caked in snow. I wiped out a time or two or three, but that's half the fun of it, right?

Overall, it wasn't a bad way for a couple of middle-aged hippies to spend the morning. Some people might scoff at my crazy outfit -- Tinkerbell pajamas and an orange sock cap crocheted  by a friend of ours. Hey, I'm proud of how I look -- crazy and free and not really caring what the world thinks about how we chose to spend a not-too-terribly cold morning just on the cusp of a much-anticipated spring.