Hamilton lets tears flow as he clinches record 7th F1 title

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Wilkes-Barre neighborhood group offers help with tax rebate program

In these days of the pandemic, we look forward to doing things outside of our homes.
				That&rsquo;s why when I cut my grass this week, I felt really invigorated.
				I was inspired by my neighbor who meticulously cares for his yard. So when I saw him cutting his lawn, I was inspired.
				So on one of those unseasonably warm days we had, I got the mower out and went at it. And what a difference it made as we head into winter.
				And winter is coming, folks. Get ready for freezing temperatures, snow and my personal favorite, slush.
				Winters become far less tolerable as we get older. We no longer see the fun in driving in snow-covered streets, or walking on icy surfaces, or participating in a good, old-fashioned snowball fight.
				Heck, we struggle to even want to build a snowman out front.
				When we were kids, we built forts of snow and we went sleigh-riding and tobogganing. Skiing was not an option &mdash; not for me anyway.
				I did go skiing once, making a one-time appearance on a bunny slope. I had never been on skis before, or since come to think of it.
				Anyway, as I struggled to jump off of the ski lift, I found myself immediately unsure of how I was ever going to get back down the hill.
				After much time searching my inner-self, I slowly got to the top of the bunny slope. I stood there watching all the skiers laughing and skiing as they zig-zagged down the hill. They were all ages and all were having fun.
				And then there was me.
				When I finally gathered the courage to head down the slope, I instantly realized I had no idea how to zig-zag. I became a cannonball heading straight down the bunny slope, gaining speed as I went along.
				I had no idea how I was going to stop. Then I saw a family of four walking across the bottom of the bunny slope and through instant calculations, I figured I was about to hit them like a bowling ball after a spare.
				I yelled. They didn&rsquo;t hear me. I yelled louder. Finally, they saw me and they froze.
				I decided to deliberately fall, hitting the snow covered ground hard. My skis flew off and I tumbled the rest of the way, coming to halt near the family I would have smashed into.
				&ldquo;Are you alright?&rdquo; the man asked.
				As I assured him I was fine, I then explained it was my first time skiing.
				He then asked me why I hadn&rsquo;t taken a lesson first.
				Good question that I had no answer for, apologizing for my stupidity.
				As the family walked away, not fully realizing how close the were to a terrible evening, I brushed off the snow from myself and headed to the lodge for a hot chocolate.
				Some time later, my friends who had convinced me to go skiing, returned to the lodge to find me on my third hot chocolate. They asked me how I liked skiing.
				I never told them what had happened. I said it was fine, but that skiing wasn&rsquo;t for me.
				They returned to the slopes.
				I stayed behind, wondering if I could rent a toboggan.
				As I waited to go home, I thought of building snow forts, snowmen and snowball fights.
				And mowing my lawn.
				Happy winter.

Beyond the Byline: Winter’s here, but no skiing for me