Cassidy and I were driving by our town’s sledding hill recently, watching some college aged kids build a ramp and then snow tube down the hill. If they were lucky, they’d get a lot of air and sail up against the blue sky. Mostly though, they crashed and burned, falling every which way into the snow. And then they’d dust themselves off and do it again. And again. I said to Cassidy, “I would NEVER do that.” He replied, “I wouldn’t do it now but I did it as a kid.” I firmly stated, “Not me. Not even as a kid.” And I wonder – is this a girl/boy thing, or is this just a Tamara thing?
I’m not a physically brave person. Whenever anyone has ever said to me, “You’re brave,” they must have been talking about emotional or mental bravery. And I do think I’ve got some of that. I do keep this personal blog, for starters. I did move 3,000 miles to move in with a guy I had been with for under a year, cumulatively. Once I spoke about my personal fears and dreams in front of 50 people…in Japanese. No lie. Oh, and once after breaking up with someone, I agreed to go to his house (why on earth??) and face his entire family questioning me about the breakup. So I’d say I can be brave, in those ways. But I’m not even remotely a daredevil and I wonder if I’ll ever be one, or even bend the rules just once or twice.
I was telling my doctor recently that having a parent die young can make you a little hypochondriac. I think he agreed with me. I’ve chosen a lifestyle of physically playing it safe. It may seem dorky to everyone around me, but I have my reasons. I take vitamins every day. I’ve never once smoked a cigarette. I don’t drink. I always wear a seatbelt. From my point of view, it seems crazy that people do things that they KNOW and are told may kill them. Insanity! And I won’t bungee jump or anything related to that. I probably wouldn’t skydive, although of course, if I found out I was terminally ill, I’d probably do all of these things. It’s just that as far as I’m concerned, I’m healthy and I want to stay that way. Extremes aside, I won’t even go skiing. I’ve heard of too many people dying that way.
You may wonder – how do I get my rushes? I get them, I do. I get emotional rushes. I get high on life. And I do like a controlled speed rush. Like being strapped in at the Log Flume at the amusement park. Now that’s a good time!
With our recent 12″ + snowfall, my town has been gathering at the aforementioned sledding hill. These people will be out there in the dark in 2 degrees. They’ll be out there when half of the hill has brown earth showing through. So you can imagine how nicely our recent snowfall has sprinkled the landscape with sledders, sleigh riders, snowboarders, snow tubers, snow shoers, and more. We decided to go out the other day with Scarlet. And there I learned three important things:
1. Alpaca wool socks TOTALLY do their job at keeping my feet warm. Wonderful.
2. There is nothing quite like the feeling of running freely through deep powder (“pow pow”) snow as you run to take a decent picture – good photos are hard to achieve with bright sun and bright white snow.
3. I am…still a wuss, just as much as I’ve always been. I thought sledding was different – little kids do sledding. Sledding is my speed, right? I thought so when looking at the hill from this angle:
Then I got to the top and looked down. And. Gulp. I was scared. Very scared. Luckily there was a bunny slope for babies. And me. Scarlet and Cassidy tried it out first:
Then I went with them and it was really fun. I obviously don’t have any pictures of that. I was too concerned with keeping my camera safe and dry during our ride.
Cassidy decided to go down the adult slope by himself. I stood at the top and Scarlet stood clinging to my leg.
Here he goes:
The view from the hill was very pretty:
That’s our town. This whole adventure was pretty short-lived because our little snowbunny was kind of sick and putting her out in 20 degrees probably didn’t help much. She wasn’t herself:
So we put her in the sled and pulled her homeward. I’ll do it – the big slope. I will. I just needed to break myself in. You’ll see it here first. I’ll conquer this one.
‘Til next time…