8 miles this morning

It was a windy, cold run along the Charles. The crew teams were out on the river, and probably colder than I was. Not exactly springlike, but on my way through the Common, I witnessed the melancholy sight of the Frog Pond skating rink packing up for the season. Libby and I had lots of fun there this winter. On to roller-blading!

One regret is that we didn't get to go sledding at all this winter--not once! True, there wasn't a lot of snow, but let this be a lesson to me that one should sled as soon as the snow stops. Snow doesn't last long in these days of global warming. Sledding is my absolute favorite winter pasttime. It requires no skill, extra weight gives you a better ride, it's a relatively risk-free thrill, and the walk back uphill is a mildly aerobic work-out! Plus it brings back all those carefree afternoons of childhood when, out of school and on our own as my mom was still at work, my brother and I would walk through the woods to "the Field", which was a long hill with a couple of bumps for added excitement. For extra excitement, we could pile kids on top of each other on one sled, or hook our feet through the steering bar of another kid's sled, who hooked his feet thruoght the steering bar of another kids's sled, and so on . . . We would go "sliding" (that's what we called it in those days) until the sun began to set. We were supposed to be home by dark, so we would walk home through the woods, pulling our sleds behind us.

I wish my kids could have the same experience. However, times have changed. No responsible parent would leave their kids usupervised for several hours after school, and if they HAD to, the kids would have to stay inside. No self-respecting parent would allow their children to go hiking alone in the woods. Not to mention sledding itself--no kid today gets on a sled unless under a watchful parental eye. But the best part of my sledding memories is the independence--to be able to come and go on my own, to spend the time exactly as I wanted, to be able to be in charge of my own fun.

And, in my opinion, sledding is not sledding at all unless on a wooden sled. I have my own sled, which I got in a sort of miraculous way (a story for another day), and I collect old ones, whenever I come across them at yard sales or whatever. Check out www.sledworks.com for some nice vintage sled photos from, apparently, a sledding museum I need to visit one day.

And for a lovely look at how sledding can be a metaphor for life, search www.jenniferinc.com, a very cool blog called The New Charm School , for her essayette "Me and Shirley and the Best Sled Ever.