This post is going to seem contradictory, but let me start by saying I meant every word I wrote in my last post regarding the cold weather.
however, however, however.
About two months ago, I planned our Valentine’s Day celebration and decided we needed to go to Vermont.
Vermont, as in, one of the northernmost states this side of the US.
Let me explain. I have this built up fantasy about the beauty and romance of Vermont and have the movie White Christmas to blame. The movie is set at a quaint hotel in Pine Tree, Vermont and every element about it is dreamy, cozy, and absolute winter perfection.
To my dismay, I learned a few years ago that Pine Tree, Vermont does not exist. Though I hadn’t expected the hotel to exist, I thought for certain the city would. Once I overcame my devastation, I researched and Googled my heart out until I decided that Stowe, Vermont would give me the White Christmas setting I was craving.
Valentine’s weekend seemed the best time for the Vermont experience. Unfortunately, it also happened to be when a major cold front decided to hit the entire east coast.
Here’s what our first morning in Stowe looked like:
Meanwhile, at home it was a fair 21 degrees that felt like 8.
*By the way, did you notice the “Life-threatening cold” news story? Yeah, that had me slightly intimidated. It was what pushed me to wear leggings* under my jeans as well as an extra undershirt.
*Leggings, you know, those things that girls these days are wearing as pants?
A fresh dusting of powder coated our car. As I sat waiting for Hubby to clear the windows, I watched my breath and suddenly felt as if I could relate to the lives of the men of the Night’s Watch.*
*If you aren’t a Game of Thrones fan, you won’t get that.**
**If you aren’t a fan, we probably shouldn’t be friends.***
***No, I’m just kidding. I think.****
****But seriously, why aren’t you?
By night, the temperate had dropped so drastically it was to a point of ‘this-can’t-be-real-life’.
Feels like -37? Really?
The air was so thin, so frigid, that when I breathed in from my nose I could feel the moisture in my nose turning to ice.*
*I do not exaggerate, when we were shopping in the late afternoon we passed a mustached man whose mustache had icicles on it, something I have only ever seen in movies.
Meanwhile, at home in Jersey, my loved ones were feeling brave about venturing out in 11 degree weather that felt like -3.
Sunday had promised to hold warmer temperatures*, but that was a lie.
*Warmer as in a real feel of 0 degrees instead of -14.
I know I’m painting a bitterly cold, grey skied picture of our Valentine’s trip, but I promise, we didn’t let the cold get us down. Hopefully the understanding of the frigid temps will help you better appreciate the upcoming posts, especially ones involving any pictures taken outside.*
*There may or may not be a picture taken:
- as I fell smack dab down on my butt into the snow
- as my head hung out the window in -15 degree weather while driving at 50 mph
- as we drove up a snow covered mountain in search of a specific maple syrup shop
You’re going to love what I have to share about our chilly time Vermont.