The day is beautiful with lots of sun and a clear, deep blue sky. The only problem is the cold. It isn’t take your breath away cold, for which I am thankful, but it is wear a jacket or a vest cold. The prediction is for snow starting tomorrow night and continuing into Monday. We could get up to 8 inches, but the forecast is still filled with maybes. Sadly the snow isn’t a maybe but the amount is.
Even when I was young, I don’t think I’d have welcomed snow this time of year. It’s bicycle time. Sled time is over. I’d have already put my sled in the cellar and brought out my bike.
I was a pretty good roller skater on the sidewalks near my house. My skates were the key kind which attached to my shoes, always shoes, never sneakers. I’d sit on the front steps, loosen the sliders on the under part of the skates then put my feet in and move the slider up and down until the skates perfectly fit my feet. I’d then tighten the slider bolts. The next part needed my key which I always kept on a string around my neck when I skated. The string was a necessity because losing the key was about the worst thing to happen. That key loosened or tightened the clamps at the top of my skates, the clamps which held on to my shoes. Once the clamps were as tight as I could get them the last thing to do was to buckle the leather strap which went across my foot.
I loved how strange the bottoms of my feet felt as I skated. It was like a tingling sensation. Coupled with that was the great sound of skates rolling across the sidewalks. It was almost like the sound of a revving motor.
The skates never really glided and didn’t do well dealing with big bumps or cracks in the sidewalks. I didn’t care; however, I did sometimes fall after encountering a crack and often skinned my knees. Blood trails went down my legs. They were like badges of honor because I’d get right back up and skate again, blood or no blood.
We went to the skating rink occasionally and rented shoe skates. The rink was in Medford, the next town over, and was called The Bal-A-Roue. It looked a bit like a hockey rink. The skating part was oval and surrounded by a railing. The surface, though, was wooden. An organ played the music so easy even now to recognize as skating music. I love going there.
When I’d get home, my skirt or my pants were usually dirty from the number of times I fell on that wooden floor. I admit the railing and I were great friends.
