I don’t ice skate, but I’m going to give it a shot.
I used to ice skate when I was little. There was an ice rink in the little town in California where I grew up. I preferred the Roller Towne roller rink when I was in my teens, but when I was little, it was Icelandia.
We were food-stamps-welfare-poor, so getting to go do something like this was a big deal. My parents were divorced, so it was me, my little brother and my Mom. Mom would watch, I’d ignore James and off I’d skate.
Ron’s got the productive bug today, but we’re going to eat dessert first and go ice skating over at Red Arrow park in downtown Milwaukee this morning. Then, he can work and I can gleefully play the, “how did I get a bruise there?” game.
The significant thing that’s happened already is that we came together to plan the day that’s going to make each of us happiest. We operate so differently, but we’re so close that the sheer energy we expend affects each other in bizarre ways.
Let’s see how this works.
Either way, I get dessert first.
Susan Scot Fry
I hadn’t been ice skating since I was 8 years old. What a hoot. Lots of times around clutching the rail — then less and less clutching — until finally, I made it around 3 whole times without touching the rail.
That was a sweet dessert.