Jan 16, 2018 3 min read

I called all of my siblings and invited them out. The weather was perfect, close to 30 degrees, and the ground was covered with a nicely packed snow. Those who could make it, came. I’m not sure who was more excited as the cars began coming up the driveway, the kids or adults.

First, crockpots and sleds were unpacked. Children exited the vehicles next, bundled up like Ralphie’s brother in “A Christmas Story.” Waddling over to hug me and say, “Hi, Aunt Laura,” they traipsed inside to get the game plan.

We put together a variety of soups in the crockpots and set out the breads and desserts we had packed. Then, once we were sure the fire in the stove would stay burning, and once we had the kettle on simmer, we gathered up our entourage and headed for the hill.

Plastic discs were the sled of choice that day. Each child dragged his or her sled up to the appointed spot. They climbed onto their discs at the starting line they created and prepared to race to the bottom. Over and over again they ran back up the hill after whizzing down.

They asked me to race them, and I agreed. The plastic disc that seemed to dwarf the children barely fit my more ample rear end. In fact, one leg stuck out like a rudder on a boat. I began spinning in circles (some rudder!) and cruised backward for a while.

I slipped into one of the tire tracks in the driveway, and it carried me clear to the bottom. By the time I walked back to the top of the hill, I was gasping for breath and swaying dizzily. My nieces squealed and asked me to go again. I told them they could go once without me and hopefully I’d be able to breathe again by the time they came back.

On our next trip down, the unthinkable happened. My sled careened into my niece’s sled, and she went flying. As I passed her, I reached out and grabbed hold of her arm. I scooped her onto my sled and continued on my way. She screamed and then laughed as we went zooming downhill.

On my next trip downhill, another niece got stuck in a snowbank. As I passed her, I called out for her and reached my arms out. To my surprise, she jumped up and ran toward me, leaping into my lap and holding onto me. We went careening down the driveway, barely stopping at the bottom. Another long trek back uphill, complete with huffing and puffing. I certainly got a workout!

On one of my last trips downhill, I zipped backward into a rosebush. A pile of snow landed on top of me, but I couldn’t dig myself out because I was hooked by thorns in my back. My son and one of the girls had to pull me out, which was no easy task considering our size differences and the angle I was stuck on.

Finally, everyone was cold, so we went inside and had chili, cornbread, cake and hot chocolate. We snuggled together on the couches and watched movies until our toes and fingers were toasty warm again.

Some of the kids went back out for another round of sledding, but my body was already telling me the price I’d be paying for my adventures. It was a wonderful day, and it was worth the price.

Laura Zoeller can be reached at zoeller5@verizon.net.