Watching the Olympics broke the monotony of cold winter days. Skiing events brought back memories of snowy winters in Iowa when I, my brothers and sisters, went skiing down the hill at the cemetery. The length of the runs was approximately three city blocks.
Part of the hill was terraced so one had a choice of straight downhill runs, or runs with jumps. Some had only one or two jumps. One of the runs had five terraces, and when one got good enough to ski all five without taking a spill, they graduated to the runs at the bird refuge, a hill similar in height to the cemetery hill, only with trees- lots of them.
The day I took the five jumps successfully, I trudged over to the bird refuge. When I got to the top of the hill and looked down, I saw that one would have to ski around one, perhaps several trees before reaching the bottom of the hill. I watched skiers, mostly college boys, negotiating the runs while I studied the situation. I doubted my ability to avoid a collision with a tree and returned to the cemetery.
Reminiscing childhood memories does not prevent winter fatigue. My sister, Esther and I both are longing for warmer days and have been sharing ideas for summer salads. Of course we both know the old adage, "be careful what you wish for, you might get it". We know extreme weather conditions seem to have become the norm. One of these days we will be wishing for a drop in temperature to alleviate scorching hot days.
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