I am content to lounge, sip hazelnut coffee and listen to the ice moan and groan as it gives birth to a ginormous tri-color skating rink.
Compare my rink on Little Sebago Lake—endless, uncrowded, and free—to Central Parks’ or Rockefeller Centers’. I think you’ll agree that mine is priceless. Maine. The way life is.
The rink is ready. So are my skates. The same skates I wore in Millinocket, Maine, in elementary school. Only the pom-poms have changed. Ok, so maybe the inner tongue lining is missing from one, and maybe the sole cushions are gone from both, but they are magic. They propel me frontward and backward and take me places I’m still lucky enough to go!