Hello from Penticton

There it goes, another year in the books.

Thanks to an 11:00 curfew tonight I spent it with my teammate Joey as the clock struck.  Don’t worry there was no kissing at the twelfth chime.  I was however on my cellphone with friends at home having a party of their own.  An experience I would have deeply enjoyed being a part of.  But… i digress, now to reflect on past memories.

When I was a toddler and early into my teens I absolutely loved winter.  One notable favourite was sledding up a Diefenbaker hill/bowl, a stone’s throw from my Tsawwassen bungalow.  Possibly the ideal sledding hill, Diefenbaker provided not only many faces on which to sled, but it also had a varying level of steepness.  The steepness (or danger) of the slope directly correlated with my age, all the way to the point where I couldn’t find a steeper (more dangerous) face to go down.  It was at this point where my friends and had to become more innovative with the way we try and kill ourselves.  Settling on a firm idea, our humble snow jump was constructed. Given the position of the jump halfway down the run we estimated that anyone hitting the jump would be cozying up to terminal velocity.  The jump only launched you about a foot in the air, but this coupled with the decently steep incline of the hill, made it closer to five feet at the apex.  After seeing our first brave guinea pig give it a go everything one got cold feet (haha, doug).  The utter carnage the mountain unleashed on him was frightening.  Five minutes of lying face down in the snow moaning and kicking was not what any of us had in plan for our evening.  I can’t remember exactly the series of events leading to this, but I ended up jumping over my cousin, lengthwise.

All these happy emotions and memories I had wrapped up with winter are now becoming tarnished and dull all thanks to my car.  Yes, this does mark the first time wherein I am forced to transport myself through the blizzard which is Penticton.  To make matters worse my billets house lies at the top of a long curving road which weaves its way down until finally joining onto one of the three major roads in Pen.  I’ve survived so far, but wouldn’t be surprised if I didn’t make it to my 18th day of birth (Jan 24th by the way).

My Song of the Week: Archaeologists by wintersleep

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