Should I count crossing the lake or not? Last weekend I went out for my walks dutifully, although it was -27* and -29* (degrees below zero). I bundled up well with long winter underwear and was quite cozy trudging along. The only part of me that didn’t have double layers were my nose and mouth and eyes. I couldn’t cover my eyes at all or I couldn’t see, and I couldn’t cover my nose and mouth or my glasses fogged up and I was blind.
Anyway, Lily Lake was frozen hard, with skaters on it, and I decided instead of walking around the lake I would walk across it and then around the bottom and back retracing the way I started, which made my route longer.
The thing about crossing the lake on the ice is that it frightened me witless. If the ice broke and I had fallen through I would have probably been dead within a couple of minutes. You really don’t last long. And as I walked along I had to step on the cracks in the ice and every now and again there was a deep low animal groaning from the heaving sheets as they ground against each other…
I was bloody terrified, so I did it twice.
Oh, and I am a most practical person, you know. Yeah, there were cracks and it was groaning, but they had also driven a pick-up truck with a snow plough on it all over it to clear the snow for the skating. I knew darn well that there was no danger, but my poor terrifed tummy didn’t believe it at all.
Does this count as playing outside? Almost. But no. All I did was trudge, frosting the (acrylic) fur on my hood with white ice from my breath. I walked. And walking, despite it being somewhere new and a foolishly hair-raising experience, does not count as playing outside.
I still have to come up with two more playing sessions. This is going to be hard. Our sled was swiped (turned out not to be in the cellar) and I can no longer budget for a trip to the pool.
Good news: I should have time for the playing sessions easily in a week or so. If only I had snow pants like I did when I was a kid. Then I could go sledding without the sled. 4 years ago