Snowy Memories

There's nothing quite like a snowy hill when you are young. It's best, of course, when the snow crunches under your boots as you hike up, up, up the steep side of it. 

My brothers taught me the side step technique. Walk up the hill like the waddle of a penguin, with the full side of your foot going first, rather than stepping toe first. This will give you more leverage for each new step. My brothers also taught me something else about snowy hills. The adventure is worth the risk -most of the time. I do have a few memories of narrowly escaping a tree trunk or landing with a sharp, painful thud on the other side of their hand built ramp. Those memories were not worth the risk leading up to them. But then, there are the memories of them convincing me to try the steepest part of the hill, because that is the most fun, and it was.

I was always what they would have called a scaredy-cat. I never wanted to take risks. But after much help and encouragement, I too learned the thrill of racing down the cold hill, feeling the wind bite my cheeks, and tumbling off my sled in just enough time before landing in the bottom of the creek bed. 

We made so many wonderful memories on that hillside. One year, winter treated us to sledding perfection. We had a nice thick layer of snow when we got a bit of a warm spell, this melted the snow just enough to make a smooth coat of ice on top. Soon after, we received another layer of cold fluffy snow. This, my friends, was just the right conditions for all of us to enjoy many wonderful days of sledding. We even got Mom and Dad out on one starlit night. We piled on Dad's custom built toboggan and sailed through the night air, breaking the silence many times with whoops and hollers.

During some of our sledding adventures, somebody would light a bonfire on the top of the hill to warm ourselves by. Other times it was to roast hot dogs and smores as a mid afternoon treat. 

Sometimes Jorgan and I would spend most of the day on the hills. When we finished, we would stomp the snow off in our small entrance and happily sit down to mom's special hot chocolate or snowmobile soup.

As I look back at these glorious memories I wonder what my children will remember. What is going to be there happiest moments, and what am I doing to help them make those memories?

What are some of your coziest memories from home?