Skiing

I grew up on Long Island, but people still expected me to know how to ski !  That problem was solved when my cousin, Heidi, came to visit us and then immigrated.  She picked my two brothers’ and my first pair of skis at a ski shop in Great Neck, and took us Upstate and to Vermont on weekends.  From her we learned about the snow plow turn, and then the christie.

It was a whole new world, the lifts, the home town cafeterias, the bed-and-breakfasts where we stayed.  The ski instructors were mostly immigrants, too.   I didn’t get hurt ‘til we went skiing when I was in my sixties. 

I have fond memories of those days, and what a great country God has given us.  Heidi went out West, married a veteran, and raised a family of three children.

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