When I was a kid, a snow day meant trekking over to the local country club, squeezing between the fence and sledding until the sun set. Never mind the fact that I was trespassing; I was in plenty of good company, as evidenced by the many sled tracks up and down the hilly grounds. I joined my older sister and brother and their friends, happily trudging up and down that blasted hill, with mittens so soaked I could barely feel my fingers. And that was a good thing. I’m lucky that I can relive fond memories like these, thanks to a charming new picture book from Islandport Press. The Iciest, Diciest, Scariest Sled Ride Ever is a fitting title for an especially active story. Anyone [&hellip