Sledding With My Dad: Good Memories
Most of the neighborhood I grew up in is now a parking lot.
But Prairie Home Cemetery, a block west of the house I grew up in, is still there. I mostly remember it as being next to the sledding hill.
My father and I went by, or maybe through, the cemetery on our way to the 'hill'.
The sledding hill wasn't, technically, a hill.
It was part of a coulee going through the southwest corner of Prairie Home Cemetery. Or, rather, it was part of what had been a coulee....
More at A Catholic Citizen in America.
(Remembering good times in winters long past; what was, and was not, important when raising my kids. Flexible Flyer sleds, family, and faith that makes sense.)
Comments
Post a Comment