The forecast for the day wasn’t looking good; -20 C or
colder. I watched the outdoor thermometer nervously
all morning hoping it would warm up. We had this day
planned for our “snow day” and everyone was invited.
A snow day to the country kids nearby means the school buses are cancelled because of stormy weather or freezing rain. To those of us who grew up walking to school it was a name for a different kind of fun day - a toboggan party - which depends of course on lots of snow. The snow was deep and clean and white in our
backyard that day, just waiting for us to put our tracks through its perfect surface.

I needn’t have worried about the weather. It rose to -18º C, was sunny and bright, and with no wind the most gorgeous of days.

We gathered at the small hill at the back of our property; neighbours, family and friends, for our first (and all agreed, annual) toboggan party.

Hot chocolate, marshmallows, sandwiches, beer, and cookies were carried to the bottom of the hill where my husband Bob had a bonfire burning. The backdrop to our picnic was the beautiful ravine beyond our property that slopes up to fallow farmland and cedar rail fences. In spring a seasonal creek rushes through the ravine and deer leave their tracks whatever the season, either in mud or in snow.

I whittled some twigs to a point and my aunt showed my great-nephew Reheem how to burn a marshmallow and eat it right off the stick.

We had lawn chairs and logs to sit on and various hill-riding devices; old fashioned wooden tobaggons, sheets of plastic, and discs with handles. I got snow in my face, up my back and in my boots. I thought I must have been a more talented tobogganer as a kid, or was it I just didn’t remember?

My brother-in-law, Bruce, who is a avid downhill skier said there is nothing better than a winter’s day like the one we were having. We couldn’t help but gloat about the lack of mosquitoes, deer flies and black flies that summer brings when it finally comes.

The air is fresh here, just an hour north of Toronto; it is clean in the winter and sweet in the summer. Just being outside breathing is a pleasure.

When daylight began to fade - which it does early this time of year - and there was an extra chill in the air that the bonfire couldn’t ward off, we headed into the house for bowls of hot chili.

The kids had a riot that day, running up and riding down the hill, and the adults were laughing like children. All it took was one small bump on the landscape to forget about life for awhile and just live it.