I often think back to my own childhood when skating was allowed at a little pond not too far from the house, or at a nearby park atop a baseball field flooded by the local fire department. It wasn't often cold enough for either, so lacing up the skates was always a treat. One year we took a risk, pulled the garden hose out of the garage, and flooded half of our own backyard. (Why risky? Because Dad was meticulous about his lawn. Even with seven children and assorted neighbors, he managed to maintain a lovely carpet of luxurious green. Our gentle father supervised the mowing and trimming with drill sergeant finesse!) The homemade rink was small and very lumpy but served its purpose and garnered a full afternoon of entertainment. The expected reprimand was dispensed at the dinner table that evening and we all went to bed with reminders of proper care of garden hoses and a raised awareness of grass-damaging behaviour. However before slumber overtook us, we heard a slight commotion in the backyard. Peering out the second story windows of our bedroom, we spied Dad with his deluxe garden hose in hand, spraying new layers of water on our rink, that would quickly become a fine smooth, level arena. With conspiratorial grins, we climbed back under our covers. Nothing would be said, but tomorrow held the unbelievable promise of even more winter fun than today!
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