Nick sled down the hill to milking today. I walked. Last night we went tandem sledding on this cheap orange sled we found in the barn's attic. I'm one of those wet blankets with adrenaline sports like sledding. I wore my insulated navy blue jumpsuit which is so shapeless and padded I could be an upright hippo for all anyone would know. I had my grandmother's faux fur hat that wraps under the chin and snow boots that are as weighted as cinder blocks. After hiking up what seemed like a mile I climbed in behind Nick on the sled and told him, SLOW. I spent the ensuing three rides dragging both feet in the ground for better brakeage. It wasn't until we would slow to the slight uphill to the house that I'd begin whopping and screaming and unclenching my gloved fists.
So this morning I walked the road to the barn and took in the sight of the snow-laden hills. With any climactic luck it will be our view and my walk for the next four to five months. I'm going to need to start embracing the cold and find more formfitting snow wear.