~Memory Monday~
My first memories of skating were on the pond near our house. My mom taught me how to skate backwards on that pond, before the spring went dry and the pond was no longer.
Ice skating became a weekly ritual during the winter. We would traipse all over the Malad Valley; pond to pond with hockey sticks in tow.
Each year brought a fresh search for the perfect ice. And one winter Charlotte and I discovered "smooth as glass" ice. We grew up down the road from our town's sewer ponds. Yup. We skated on those sewer ponds and it was nice. Nice, nice ice. It was as if no one had ever skated on those ponds before.
The adrenelin rush from trespassing didn't compare with the adrenelin rush of possibly falling into something you flushed 30 minutes prior. Luckily, we never fell into that jackpot.
You just had to remember to wipe off the orange-brown scum that collected on the bottom of your blades when you were finished.
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4 comments:
I remember skating with Grandpa Firth somewhere down by 13 I think. That is a cherished memory of him. The thought of possibly falling through the ice on the sewer pond would be enough to keep me off of it. I'm not brave that way.
You seriously had the best childhood in the world. You could have been in the book Little Women. Im jealous. LOVE YOU! and cant wait to see your face on Thursday!
That's gross. How dare you share that with the world.
Yuck, Yuck, Yuck!!!
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