Whatever else may be said about my hometown in South Dakota—it did have wonderful hills on three sides for excellent sledding at this time of year. The school house itself used to be on a hill and an expert could leave the school door on his sled and be halfway home in one grand swoop. Most anywhere we turned there was a good slope where a child could do a “belly-whopper” on his sled and travel a decent distance before coming to a stop. It was glorious fun.
But whatever else may be said about Manson it doesn’t have steep hills for exciting sledding. Our children in this neighborhood use the driveways and street—thanks to the infrequent but tolerant and careful motorists and they are fairly content. But the poor dears don’t know any better. They don’t know the heady exhilaration of poising with sled in hands at the top of a long well worn incline; the thrill of gathering speed; the swish of cold air and the sting of snow flung from the runners; or the triumph of a smooth stop just a few feet farther than the last one down!
Even a small hill would do. Even a manufactured sled run would be fine. I’ve heard it can be done.
***
Periodically, our three oldest children cook up a series of vaudeville acts or plays to present to us in the evening—(preferably when bedtime is imminent, because we are usually too polite to end the performance in the middle just to say “bedtime.”)
These acts are usually complete with enough properties to disrupt the living room, and necessitate the use of all the old clothing in the upstairs closet for costume purposes.
The performances are preceded by a great amount of bustling and hurrying about upstairs, muffled giggling, explosive laughter, excited, shouted directions and finally much rustlings and whisperings behind the stair door.
It may start out to be a normal three act play, but usually progresses into four, five or six acts as they become impressed with their dramatic powers, and flushed with triumph and hearty applause.
Therefore, my husband and I must be actors, too, of a sort—to help them, tactfully, to bring the whole thing to an ending before we are too bored to consider their feelings.
***
The other evening while Nancy was busy with homework, Steve and Bruce drafted Dale as a third, unpredictable member of the cast, and provided us with entertainment.
It all involved much moving of chairs, putting the card table up and down, a good deal of masked banditry, and gun play, hurried consultations, and loudly whispered prompting for Dale’s benefit.
Dale was prone to stand in one spot grinning foolishly and silently until prodded into action or speech by one of the boys, but was serenely happy while he held the weapons and did all the shooting. However when the situation was reversed, he almost brought th performance to an end by wailing loudly, “But I don’t want to be dead!”
This utterly confused the earnest actors and in the midst of the uproar, Steve was heard to remark in a frustrated aside, “Probably we should have rehearsaled this some more!”
