CODY & ABBIE SOSSAMON PUBLISHER & DAUGHTER I talked to an 80-something-year-old woman the other day who is staying the winter here with her daughter to escape the cold of Philadelphia.

“I guess you’re questioning that decision,” I commented.

“Oh no. As cold and wet as it’s been here, it’s been worse in Philly.” she replied.

Imagine that, all of you who, like me, are going stir crazy because of the winter weather we’ve had since about Thanksgiving.

I don’t remember a longer stretch of cold, wet weather. Except for a few decent days here and there, outside activities have been pretty much stymied.

What must it be like to live in the North when every winter is like this — or worse according to my new friend from Philly?

They have us at a disadvantage, however. They’re used to it. They’ve got their snowmobiles and hockey pucks to keep them occupied.

But now I've had about all of the winter fun I can stand. I'm ready for the temperature to rise, the golf course to re-open and the grass to start growing. They said that darn groundhog saw its shadow and we'll have six more weeks of winter. That's great. Just great. All I’ve got is a dusty set of golf clubs and a rusty sled.

Which leads me to this past weekend. Back in the day, I loved a snowice event like we just had. We’d all head for the nearest steep hill and sled for hours. For the past several snows, I’ve pretty much hung out in the recliner watching golf, basketball or just napping.

But since I’ve already done a winter’s worth of that, I was developing a severe case of cabin fever. I suppose that’s why I jumped at the offer to go sledding with my daughter and a bunch of her friends.

“Beats another afternoon wasted in the recliner,” I said to no one in particular.

I found my trusty sled — the kind with runners — hanging in a corner of my storage shed, threw it in the back of my Tahoe and headed off to meet the youngsters.

You don’t see many sleds like mine anymore. Most of ‘em are molded plastic, which are good for fluffy snow and even ice, but next to impossible to steer. So, too, are inner tubes. (Yep, I tried ’em all.)

The ones like mine don’t do so well in snow, but on ice they’ll fly! And you can steer them, too.

I bet you all think this is leading up to some funny story about me crashing my sled and breaking my arm, right?

You’d be wrong. I only made a few runs down the hill and never even came close to hurting myself. That’s not exactly truthful. I did almost break my arm.

How do you ALMOST break your arm, you ask? I don’t know, but I almost did. At least that’s what I told my wife and daughter.

You know what the hardest part about sledding is? Walking back up the hill.

That and dealing with sore legs for a couple of days after.

It’s probably not the smartest thing in the world to do, an almost 60-year-old man going sledding, but it was the most fun I’ve had in a long time. How much fun was it?

It was so much fun we went back the next day!

But now I’ve had about all of the winter fun I can stand. I’m ready for the temperature to rise, the golf course to re-open and the grass to start growing.

They said that darn groundhog saw its shadow and we’ll have six more weeks of winter.

That’s great. Just great. I guess I could watch the Winter Olympics, but there’s just one problem. They don’t have enough snow in Canada. It’s been too warm.

Cody Sossamon (cody@gaffneyledger.com) is publisher of The Gaffney Ledger.