If Only I Could Ski

If Only I Knew How to Ski – I could really enjoy the snow we’re getting!

Yep – I lived in Alaska for 8 years and never learned how to ski. I was mostly a little kid at the time, but still never learned. Sledding was my thing – and I loved it. The wind whipping my face as I slid faster and faster down a steep slope. And when piled onto a big sled or innertube with family – the laughter was endless.

We’d always layer up until we looked like Ralphie’s little brother and somehow we’d manage to climb onto our sleds – and sometimes with a push – race our way down the hillside. Mom often made hot cocoa for us when we got home – with marshmallows of course – and I had to double layer my socks to get my feet warmed up again…

There were bumps & bruises along the way – but what I remember most is screaming with laughter…

I imagine skiing is something like that – but it seems to require a bit more grace – athletic ability – of which I carry so little… Skiing is Roy’s thing. Sledding is sort of a throwing your hands in the air kind of activity – my kind of thing. Skiing requires a bit more thought and purpose and intent – and it intimidates the boots off me.

Me. The girl who fell down the concrete stairs on the first day of 10th grade in a public high school – head over heels (literally) – while wearing my favorite skirt & blouse. Me, the woman who has fallen down THREE TIMES no less – always in front of Roy – just while walking…

Skiing seems a bit scary to me. So, even at the age of 40, I’d still prefer a roll up sled and sloping hill. With a ginormous steaming latte waiting for me at the bottom…

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