Cold weather fun

This past weekend, I went skiing for the first time in years (seriously, like a whole decade).  It was just as fun as I remember it as a kid (though more expensive, go figure).

We all have special (or maybe not so special) memories from childhood. Some of my best memories involve skiing. As a child, while other families were spending summer vacations at the beach, my parents hauled me and my sisters to the mountains for  long weekends of skiing.

When I was very young, before my parents took me along on their annual ski trips, I would get to stay at my grandparents house, which was awesome. Somewhere around the age of 4 or 5, I got to join my parents and older sister on those ski trips.

When I first learned to ski, I didn’t use poles so flat areas were always a challenge. My dad would holler from somewhere behind me, “Put your skis together!” He’d ski up behind me helping me to keep up my momentum until the next downhill.

As I got a little older, I also got a little bolder. Occasionally I’d take a bad spill, lose a ski, crack some goggles, but I always managed to walk away unharmed.  One of those times when I was feeling bold, I accidentally pushed my dad of the side of a mountain (I’m still sorry about that one…Love you, Dad).  I don’t remember all the circumstances anymore. What I do remember is being  too close to the edge of the trail and my dad taking one for the team (and by team, I mean me). He probably fell 10 or 15 feet.  Luckily several inches of snow cushioned his fall.

Skiing this past weekend was so much fun and brought back all of those great memories.  It was only the second or third time my husband had ever been skiing. Unfortunately I didn’t have a camera with me to mark the occasion (though he has some bruises and a few aches in pains to remind  him of the good time we had).

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