Today we drove the hour-and-a-half drive to my grandfather’s house. The occasion was to celebrate my Grandfather’s 92nd birthday and my sister’s 29th. It was a great journey and a great celebration.
I live in Pennsylvania (aka Penn’s Woods) and much of our trip to my grandfather’s house is through tree-lined back roads and mountains. And it is autumn. We were just blown away by the colors of the trees. It’s the type of foliage people drive hundreds of miles to see and we live in it. I am very blessed.
Once we got there we ate a large lunch and then they opened presents, the Steelers game in the background like old times. My wife made my grandfather a really cool photo book on Snapfish and we gave it to him as our gift. My grandfather is old school and hates receiving presents, but we could tell he really liked this one. He read it three times after he opened it.
This evening I had a hockey game, my first one with my new skates. This is where the evening takes a turn for the worse. In my cheap, bone-headiness, I failed to sharpen my skates before the game because they “felt OK”. Well, the moment my skates hit the ice I knew this was a bad idea.
Immediately, I felt like Bambi, the first time he gets on the ice, and I would probably have been better off with hooves rather than skates. The had no edge to them whatsoever. Simply terrible. I couldn’t stop or push off to get going. Not one of my better games.
So..I left my skates at the rink after the game to be sharpened. I hope my next experience with them will be better. Can’t be worse, I suppose.
The Struggling Writer 