FW: from tim torkildson

---

The hill was rather timid
as hills would go these days,
but sliding down it as a boy
'twas like a snowy maze.
Our sleds were nothing fancy,
what'er we could afford.
You could get an awesome ride
on flaps of loose cardboard.
Of course we were in snow pants
with woolen mittens, too.
And with a ski mask pulled too tight
we passed for Mr. Magoo.
Somehow the day was brighter,
our laughter sweetly sprung,
the wind a crystal curtain,
when we were oh so young!
A gentle push would send you
down the winding slope,
dodging elm trees on the way --
as least that's what you'd hope.
A patch or two of bare ground
was always lurking near.
It would shred your cardboard up,
and possibly your rear.
Half way down this slalom
we'd often lose our sled,
and bounce and roll to bottom
on hands and knees and head.
A scrape, a couple bruises,
were part of the routine.
Yes, it was tough to be a boy,
but it was never mean.
The sun at the horizon,
orange fading fast,
meant that we were homeward bound,
for Ovaltine at last.
Do kids still go out sledding?
I think that all the hills
have been fenced off forever,
preventing untoward spills.
And cardboard is recycled;
to China it is sent.
My memories are foolish
and I am old and bent.
 

---

It's the same Hotmail®. If by "same" you mean up to 70% faster. Get your account now.

---

Send e-mail anywhere. No map, no compass. Get your Hotmail® account now.