Here is an Iowa Winter scene.
When we were running through Hickory Hill Park on Saturday, it reminded me of the last time I went sledding there. Here is a repost from 2005, where I wrote about it:
Yesterday Stinky and I went sledding at Hickory Hill Park. The hill was packed with a lot of kids from Stinky's school and since we got there later in the day, according to the laws of sled hill seniority, we had to hang out on the bad side of the hill. What makes that side of the hill so bad is that there is this odd looking man hole cover thing that rises almost a foot out of the ground in the middle of the field at the bottom of the hill. It's pretty dangerous and I wish they would surround it with hay bails or something but instead, they just tried to mark it with a tall rusty pole that someone painted green.
Stinky and I got on the sled (she was in the back and I was in the front) and scooched ourselves with our hands and feet far enough off the top of the hill so the sled could start zipping down unaided. We were riding one of those inflatable sleds that look kind of like an inner tube but are impossible to steer. Of course, we plowed right into the pole and slammed into the manhole cover thing. Stinky had the foresight to slip back behind the sled before we hit it, but I held on, thinking it might give me some cushion. Once I hit the manhole cover, I was propelled upside down and hit the ground on my head, neck and shoulder and then the whole right side of my body slammed down after.
There was a couple cross-country skiing right by there when we crashed. The woman stopped and asked me if I was okay. I think I said something like, "Huh? Oh yeah. Um, I think I hit my head." Then she started getting on my shit about the pole and how I needed to put it back in the ground so that no one else made the same mistake. Yeah, even if I had been together enough, I wouldn't have worried about it. The problem has never been that people can't see the manhole cover, it was always more that it's hard to steer around it. I told her that the pole caused more pain than the manhole cover did. Then she got all exasperated and put down her ski poles.
"I guess, I'll just have to do it then." She tried, but of course the ground was frozen and it wouldn't work and then she gave me a dirty look. Whatever. I already told her I hit my head, if she wanted to judge me for being stupid and lame, she was going to have to get at the back of a long, long line.
I could tell Stinky was really worried about me so I told her I was fine but that we had to go home. Then halfway back up the hill, I started to cry. I have no idea why, I wasn't in that much pain. I think I may have been startled more than anything. Stinky has hardly ever seen me cry so that worried her even more and I felt like shit for making her worry. Plus, I was really embarrassed because I was crying and it was so cold that all the tears and snot froze and I had that hideous glazed doughnut face.
Because of the way the trails were laid out, as we were nearing the end of the woods, we crossed paths with the bitchy, judgmental woman again. She gave me one of those, overly concerned, condescendingly, pitying looks and I was so glad I didn't have tourettes because in my head I was screaming, "Quit friggin', frickin', fucking looking at me!"
We got home and I was fine. I made an appointment to see my chiropractor and I have some impressive bruises, but I didn't break anything. I do feel like it might be a smart time to start hibernating, though.