Sledding in Paradise

 
When Grandpa Bob gets an idea in his head, there's simply no dissuading him.

There are many simple, introductory sledding hills in the quiet town of Paradise-- but clearly none of them could possibly suffice.

His grandchildren needed a proper crash course into the world of winter sport. (Yes, pun most assuredly intended.)

Near the city cemetery there stands a hill of considerable size-- more appropriate, say, for downhill skiing than sledding with toddlers.
 
*sigh*
 
Of course that was the place Grandpa had in mind.

Armed with little more than a semi-positive attitude and a whole lot of chutzpah, we tested our mettle against the hill.


As Taylor & Reilly bounced down the icy decline with punishing force, I thought, "oh dear... here ends our fun family outing for sure!" Coming to a halt at the bottom, I waited for the tears to arrive... but surprisingly they never did.

"I love sledding!!!" exclaimed a jubilant (and snow-covered) Reilly.

And so the fun began.

Sometimes the hill won, but most of the time it didn't. Sometimes there were tears, but most of the time there was laughter. Some left with battle scars-- Reilly received an ice burn from a nasty crash, and Bryson hurt his back when he slipped running to her aid. I myself am not known for thrill-seeking behaviors, and came very near to swearing off sledding for life after a crash bruised up the left side of my body. But what's life without a little risk now and then? A trip down the hill with Bryson-- crash-free-- and I was back on board.

These are the memories I want our kids to develop in full. Outings spent together as a family. Laughter, excitement, the simple pleasures of life.  

TV and video games have nothing on barreling down an icy mountain at full speed.

Trust me.