The reward for hard work, was always sledding at the “Big Hill”. Dad made his own path to the park, even when nothing was plowed yet. Nothing was going to stop sled-time. We have so many fond memories and laughs from those days. Still, I never understood why people tried to walk up the hill in the same spot that people sled down. Dodging climbers always made the adventure slightly scary but exciting. So was making sure you didn’t sail too fast to run through the hay bales and into the lake.
My husband shovels for us and I shovel for the elderly, just like Dad used to when I was a kid. I’m glad he taught me to be conscientious of the world around us. He never accepted anything but a “thank you” from the widowed older ladies who were on a tight budget. Sometimes they gave me a cookie or two, since I followed Dad around with my little shovel and an Antarctica-style snowsuit that rivaled that of A Christmas Story.