Schlitten Fahren/Sledding

Now that we are having a bonafide, if not a bit Johnny-come-lately, winter, it has been time to participate in the traditional winter outdoor festivities.  As I write this, Brendan has just come inside from making Brixton a snow throne.  Yep, an actual throne. I guess that tells you who runs the roost over here.  Let's just say I don't fit on it.  I'm not bitter about that, I mean who really wants a snow throne?  (Seriously, who??) 

Could be pretty neat though. 

The other day Brendan persuaded us to skip our playdate and come out sledding instead.  With the crunch of the fresh snow under our feet and the world looking like a snow globe, we felt like the only people out. 

Our landlord left us this nifty sled in the garage and so we took it on its maiden voyage with Brixton at the helm. He was in love from the start.  Now his newest word is "sled."

It was all fun and games until I walked upon a frozen pond.  Under all the snow I didn't see it.  There I was all joy and happiness and shouting out commands and being really enthusiastic, and then in the blink of an eye my feet were up in the air and I crashed down and hit my head on the ice.  After Brendan stopped laughing, we figured out I wasn't actually hurt (as much as I wanted to milk it). 

Things didn't get much better for me when I attempted to tow Brixton up this terribly steep hill.  My feet definitely don't have AWD. Photo evidence:

Okay, so sledding--check.  Snow throne--check.  All we need now is a snowman and we can call this winter over.