Tuesday, January 24, 2012

me and my girl

We were not even home yet when she said some skiing was in order.  I had a headache, but Dad was busy for a little while longer, so I let myself be convinced.  I am so glad I did.

We strapped our skis on right outside the garage.  To her surprise, I did not turn toward the back of the property but straight down the hill.  After several crashes accompanied by lots of giggles, we both arrived at the bottom.  Then, to her astonishment, we crossed the road and skied to the field on the other side.  "I have never left our yard on skis before" she exclaimed with big eyes.

For just over half an hour, we followed tracks made by a neighbor, carved our own, fell and rose (well, that's what she likes best after all) and watched a small animal make tracks under the snow.

Then suddenly she was tired and ready to go home.  One last scuttle up the hill, skis off ("Mommy, can you carry these?") and inside for a snack and warming up by the woodstove.

These are the moments I try to hold on to.  Because it's only half an hour, and yet...

No comments:

Post a Comment