Every blog has its own value. If it reflects your life, and you get joy in doing it, then it is just what it should be.

Amen, brother.

Sorry ’bout that. I got so excited, I forgot who I was talking to. Just goes to show, you can’t buy reading glasses or false teeth through the mail.

Great post! I was transported from the (presenly) rainy hills of Southern Oregon to the frozen playground of Maine; and more importantly, my early childhood. Very well written.

Great moral lesson as well. I’ll be back for more.

Every blog has its own value. If it reflects your life, and you get joy in doing it, then it is just what it should be.

We did the run again tonight, this time with my daughter Sarah along. If anything it was even faster than last time. On my third run I totally wiped out on the big bend, slammed the snow bank like a brick wall, and just lay in the road with the wind knocked out of me. A pair of headlights got me quickly to my feet, though. It was one of the homeowners from down the road, who happens to be Philip’s uncle. I thougth for sure he was going to yell at us for our foolhardiness, sledding down an unlit road in the pitch dark, a road that does get occasional traffic. Instead, he proved himself every bit the little kid that we were, suggesting even more dangerous ways we could go down the hill, and reminiscing about the old days when North Shore wasn’t a through road in the winter. He told us they would build up huge banks on the bend and light tin cans full of kerosene-soaked toilet paper along the roadside to light the way.

On his last run, after I had retreated inside, Philip got enought momentum to get over the hump and went all the way down to the pond!

You have, however, evoked childhood memories of sledding down the hill near my best friend’s house, including the time he and another friend sledded right into a pine sapling and were launched into the air…