When we moved out here, the kids unearthed a couple of pairs of skis in the barn. We goofed around with them a little the first year, but didn't do very much. Last winter had almost no snow, so there was little opportunity. This year, we've gotten them out again and figured out that they are cross-country skis.
Of course, we only have the skis and poles, no boots. But each ski has a little bar that can be pulled over your snow boots, forming a very loose and very temporary hold. I happen to be the only one with feet small enough to fit through, so I spend a lot less time falling off my skis and a lot more time skimming over the fields.....comparatively speaking.
I handle this with much grace and can be heard calling little words of encouragement back over my shoulder....
"You fell off AGAIN! Bwahahahahaha!"
"Bet you wish you had feet as small as mine!"
I should be a coach!
Sigh. Good times, good times.
Tiggy did not disappoint in the flailing department. Eventually I let her in on the secret that she was supposed to take steps on the skis, not heave herself along using only the poles.
We made faster progress after that.
The fields were bathed in a sunset glow, little stalks from last year's wheat harvest still visible above the snow...
Our little farm against the sunset. Time to head back...
Then we headed off into the sunset for a rollicking evening playing games with our Plentywood church family. What a fun day!