The snow would pile along the perimeter of the cleared area and then everyone would skate. The ice might be rough, conditions less than perfect but no one cared. Kids and adults strapped on the hand-me-down skates and tried their skill. Not my mum, though. An English war bride doesn't grow up trying the blades so she would watch. There was a beer or two for the men, thermoses of coffee and snacks. The air was crisp and fresh as it is now and it carried our laughter and shouts across the fields.
This is a picture of my dad, damn cigarette in his mouth, "showing off" a little.
I've been married a long time and often write about everyday events.