Saturday, January 4, 2014

Sledding is not as fun when you have no sled

Here is the most recent chapter in my ongoing love affair with winter. It features my large fiancé Marshall and our Only Friend, a man we met at a coffee shop one time. (Because Marshall and I moved to Pennsylvania about a year ago, we're still in the process of becoming socialized beings -- so when I say Only Friend I'm basically exaggerating. We have at least two friends.)

To the delight/dismay of weathermen and women everywhere -- who literally cannot stop using the word "overachiever" to describe every snowfall ever -- it snowed a lot this week! With Patsy Cline as my inspiration, I decided to organize a day of sledding so that those of us in our late twenties could see through the eyes of a child, i.e. forget about our mortality for several fleeting, snow-powder-filled moments. (I have a lot of great ideas like this. You might say I'm the Peter Pan in our gang of adult children.)

There was only one problem: nobody had a sled. We didn't even know what a sled looked like these days. Should we get a toboggan? I suggested a one-horse open sleigh, but instead it was decided that a flat circular plastic disc-thing would suffice.