Which could only mean one thing on a Friday. Time for a skating party over the weekend. Cold snaps can be good things after all.
The older boys invited their girlfriends, and we sent out the call to all nieces and nephews. The little boys from Brooklyn, who had never skated before, took us up on the offer.
Determined snow flurries this afternoon meant the zamboni (which doubles as our shearing board in the spring) had to be pressed into action.
But all the kids were soon swooping and swirling and slipping away.
And sometimes painfully (though I have to give my nephews props: they never cried and never gave up).
Skating continued until Dusty interrupted the ice hockey game. Once the puck was recovered, he had to be sent to the penalty box, a.k.a., the house, to prevent any further interference with play. Which went on until it was dark, and time for hot chocolate and warm fires and dinner and board games.
I can't think of a better end to a winter's day, unless it involves knitting, which I am off to now.