I spent the weekend away in the far away land called Chetek where Schmidts of all ages and sizes and alternate last names converge for the annual ritual of Winter Party. Winter Party is in its' seventh year, I believe, and instead of flying 1000 miles to attend, G and I now can drive less than 300 miles and be at the front door of my parents' property out in the wilds of Barron County. Indeed, at this time of the year, the yard does look barren with near zero (or subzero) temperatures and just a dusting of snow. Even way up north, the snow was scarce. Usually, we send the kiddies outside to barrel down the snow covered hill on sleds and tubes. But there was a change of plans this year considering the yard was a frozen slip n' slide instead of a soft cushy bounty of snow. Only the older kids were allowed to sled (much to the dismay of my own kid) out of fear of injury due to out of control speeds. My dad put down some large amounts of hay to ke...
Comments
Post a Comment