It’s sunny out and today I believe it is expected to go up to 73 degrees. I’ve been here for almost 9 years and every now and then, I still feel amazed at the winter weather here. My snapdragons in the garden are thriving; I can wear a T-shirt in the middle of the afternoon and be OK. It’s kind of cool.

On the other hand, I also have days when I remember that it’s January and there is no hope of seeing any snow on my yard anytime soon. I don’t know why that’s a bummer, but it is. I hated the frozen car doors, windshield scraping and that painful cold-shiver I’d get sometimes no matter how many layers of clothes I had on. Snow as an adult in NJ sucked ass. But then there was snow as I remember it as a younger Lisa, and that snow was pretty sweet.

I’m thinking of sledding, specifically. We had a wooden sled with the red metal runners forever, and that thing worked pretty well for most of our sledding needs, but things took on a whole new level of awesome when we got a toboggan for Christmas one year.

It was electric blue with a bright yellow rope, and it was just one molded piece of plastic. Trish and I loved it. It went so much faster than the old wooden sled, and never sank down into wet snow as much as the metal blades on that old thing. If we rubbed the bottom of it with wax paper, it went even faster. It was easy to steer, too, as long as you got the knack of leaning at the right time. Luckily, my sister and I were not retarded and we figured that out quickly.

We used to go to Beacon Hill to sled; it was a country club with a golf course that had massive hills and no shortage of places to hurt yourself in the snow. The big kids would go to the top of the hill, from which you could see the NYC skyline, and sled down, but I don’t think I ever managed to get brave enough to do that. Plus, there was an urban legend going around that some kid had sledded down from the top of that hill and went so fast and so far that he went right out into the traffic on Leonardville Road and got splattered by a car. So yeah, that kept a few of the more wussy children from trying the big hill — myself included. Still, Beacon Hill was a good spot.

My favorite places were Holmdel Park and the field/ woodsy area over near Kristen’s house. Holmdel Park was cool because of the sheer number of kids there. We would always see someone we knew, and it was fun to go to the lodge where they had a giant fire going in the fireplace and buy hot chocolate. As I got older, the park was the best place to go if you wanted to flirt with guys from other schools. Because, you know, we were so sexy in those snow pants with our wind-burned faces and red, runny noses. Woooo. Still, it was a lot of fun.

Why is it that my favorite memories of snow involve people getting hurt? Because that’s what I remember the most: the injuries, the tears, the crying and screaming. I’m sick, maybe. But it’s usually very entertaining to witness a kid-injury. I can’t help it. I laugh.

Here’s a few of the best ones:

• My friend’s brother Jason riding straight into a tree and slamming his face into the bark. He ended up with a bloody nose, and he had a huge scrape on his cheek. He was crying, and it was funny because he was always so tough—older brother and all—and there he was, crying like a little girl. Awesome.

• A girl riding through a temporary fence when we were sledding at the construction site of a new house. That fence ripped right off the post and she took it with her. I can’t remember any blood, but she was crying. Also awesome. You’ve got to see a kid take out a fence sometime in your life, if you haven’t already.

• My best friend’s sister flying through the air on her sled and landing hard in a ditch. There was a thump and a loud moaning-cry. She was sore, but not really injured, which was good because she was just a little kid and all. But we had to walk her home and scream at the older boys who were making fun of her. This one was awesome because her dad drove back over to the hill and yelled at the boys who were ‘laughing at his daughter.’ It was great, trust me.

• The time that a kid apparently broke his ankle on the hill at Holmdel Park. I didn’t see it, but I heard the scream he did. It was funny. Later, the paramedics came and took him off the hill. It caused quite a scene, and there was much crowding-around. I’ll bet some sick bastard kids wanted to get close to said broken ankle to see if bone was sticking out. Yeah, I would bet money on that, especially since I was one of them.

• It’s not really a sledding memory, but there was the time this little girl threw up in the snow after getting off the school bus, and a kid we called Tadpole laughed and called her “Puke Girl.” Later in the day, we drove past that spot in the car on the way to the A&P, and the puke was still there. Awesome! Snow puke!

Well, that’s it for now. What are you favorite snow memories? Did you ever see a cool injury while out there in the pristine, glistening winter wonderland? Tell me about it. I could use the giggle.