Just Like Old Times

Some of our old gang relived a significant childhood memory this weekend. Looking out our respective windows at the fresh powdery snow, we always long for our ages-past favorite sledding hill.

After years of saying "we should go back someday", we finally did go back.

"Hamilton Hill", that flatland bump made from the basements of local houses, did not disappoint. Old memories came gushing back like an avalanche as we sledded and climbed and sledded and climbed. We laughed. We rolled. We wiped out.

We were kids again.

Or, we would have been, if we didn't have our own kids with us. The cool thing was, they got to experience our childhood hill. And that is a very strange situation for a parent.

The icy torch has been passed.