Winter Memories

I didn’t always hate winter and the cold. There was a time in my more youthful days when the thought of dressing in warm clothing and heading outside for hours to play in the snow didn’t send a chill down my spine.

Today my views on this long, dark and frigid season known as winter have changed. I would much rather travel to a warmer climate beginning in November and then return to my home in Canada around the start of April. This would be the perfect winter scenario for me.

These views of mine differ from when I was a younger version of myself. I recall happier times spent outside when all around me had turned white with snow and ice.

My local toboggan hill no longer exists as an apartment complex has taken its place but we used to have a great spot located just a short walk from my door where all of the kids would take our crazy carpets or sleds and hurl ourselves with reckless abandon down the steep hill. We would risk bodily harm on each journey from the top to the bottom and slip and fall during our repeated ascents to the top of the hill only to hop on and go one more time. Of course the thrill of the ride wasn’t always enough so we would build a ramp at the bottom of the hill in an attempt to create even more excitement of flying through the air. The fun always outweighed the danger.

The kids in my neighbourhood were also blessed with an outdoor pond in the field across the street from where I lived. Not surprisingly, the pond is also gone and has been replaced by houses. This pond would freeze in the frosty weather and provide us with our own skating rink. I was never a good skater (bad ankles) but that never stopped me from tying the laces of my skates together and throwing them over the hockey stick perched on my shoulder and marching through the deep snow to the ice pad. We’d play games of hockey for hours or just skate around the ice until our faces were numb and red or our feet had reached the limit prior to achieving frostbite. Those were some good times.

Probably my favourite winter activity was playing “King of the Castle”. As a large kid, I always fared rather well at this game. With all of the snow that would fall, the plow would create some large mounds of snow on which we could play. The object of the game was to remain at the top of the hill and not let anyone push you off. I think this game did an excellent job of teaching us that you can accomplish your goals if you work together. Unless of course; the group can’t muster enough strength to knock the fat kid off the top.

It wasn’t all good times. I recall on more than one occasion arriving home from either school or from playing with friends to find that nobody was home and the house was locked tighter than Fort Knox (I had a better description planned for that but being the holiday season…it might have been a bit too graphic). There I would wait, sitting on the front cement step with the bitter winds beating me and the cold of the stoop penetrating my ass. My whole body would be chilled. Needless to say, I always let my parents know how disappointed I was when they returned home…not that Dad cared. I think he just figured it would make me tougher. Boy did that plan backfire.

So all of my good and happy memories of winter are still with me it seems. Despite this I would still much rather reminisce about those fun times while sipping on an ice cold beer as I sit in my lawn chair at the beach on the Gulf Coast of Florida in February. Dare to dream.