I just slid across my kitchen floor in stockingfeet. I love sliding. If I'm walking and there's snow or ice on the ground, I will take a few hurried steps, rushing into a slide. The only thing better is when there's that skin of frozen that you can jump on and crunch beneath your feet. Oh, and crunchy, squeaky snow under sneakers: the really cold kind.
In my first apartment, my roommate and I pledged all the floors and wouldn't let people wear shoes. I loved skidding across that floor. I remember sitting on a pillow and her pushing me around from room to room like a hockey puck. It was hard to stay on the pillow but worth it if you managed it.
But nothing but nothing is better than sliding on snow. So I'm off to ski. Cross country that is. Too crowded for downhill today. Downhill'll wait till tomorrow. Nice and early. And on new snow.
Happy New Year to you and yours. I hope you remember the little things you love, spend lots of time with people you like, and do things you feel passionately about like sliding on snow and wood floors and slick streets.
I quit. Sort of.
2 days ago