This week's activities featured ice skates, sleds, snowboard, cross-country skiis, and alas, a big end-of-week melt. Yesterday at this time I was heading out for a walk in the warm sunshine, sans gloves or long underwear; last night the temperatures dropped again, just in time to make the Winter Festival feel truly like a winter festival. As you can see, even without skates on the pond was a major feature of interest, even while competing with horse-drawn wagon rides, a band, roasting marshmallows, and free pizza and hot dogs.
But here we are, at 3:45, back at home indoors, because Emily was baptised today in another ancient winter rite of passage: her leg pushed through the ice when she stepped on a thin patch hidden by snow. She got herself out and we came right home - she's fine. I guess we can say that she has a new level of empathy with the polar bears. And any of my readers who know Emily know that she can always use a lesson in caution, given her personality. Although I witnessed her playing - to all appearances being cautious enough - she is just the kind of kid who would find a thin place on the ice, just to see what it was like to go through.