I love a good hotel.
I love a good hotel room even more.*
*Please be aware, they are two very different things.
We arrived at our hotel for our Valentine’s weekend stay in Vermont fifteen minutes before we needed to be twenty minutes south for our dinner.
I think you know that I don’t mess around with dinnertime, and therefore had to restrain myself when our time of arrival added two minutes rather than subtracting two minutes.
Though I was over the moon about this modern little mountain lodge we had the pleasure of calling home for two days, I had to withhold my desire to touch everything and take pictures of it all. It was also somewhere between frozen tundra and outer space cold, so standing in awe of things like this wasn’t a possibility:
Even so, I may or may not have squealed a little when Lance pointed it out to me.*
*What ‘it’ is, I wasn’t sure. Ice sculpture, yes. What had been sculpted, I didn’t know for sure. It was, obviously, nighttime when we arrived, so I left understanding of my surroundings for the morning.**
**Though I am one hundred and ten percent certain I saw a ‘Bear Crossing’ sign about an hour away from Stowe. Lance, however, still is of the opinion that I was seeing things.
When we checked in, our friendly desk clerk asked if we planned on skiing this weekend. We both laughed. Hubby has a not so well knee that he has yet to attempt any activity relative to skiing with and the high for the weekend was 0 degrees.
No. We would not be skiing.
The room had a retro meets rustic vibe about it. At first glance, I began contemplating how I could get Hubby to re-purpose old wood as bedside shelves in our home.*
*This will never happen, but clearly I am mentioning it because I have yet to make my peace with it.
The skiing man on our wall* was an added spark of fun to our room.
*I really hope he is just a skiing man and no one of importance that I should know, otherwise I’m going to feel pretty silly.
In daylight, I still was clueless as to what the once beautiful, still beautifully intriguing, ice sculpture had been carved to represent.
My guess is it was an organ and the little guys to the left and right were once angels.
That, or it was just a fancy bench.
Though our room was cozy and spacious, this was my favorite part of the resort.
Or maybe it was him…
No, this was definitely my favorite spot. Especially after having braved a real feel of negative 37 degrees and actual measured temps of negative nineteen.
Again Jersey, tell me how cold it was here?
Everything about Vermont was a postcard perfect presentation of a winter wonderland.
With a not so wonderlandy temperatures…
The warning in front of our room gave me momentary pause, but then I remembered how cold it was and wasn’t too concerned with snow or ice falling from the roof and destroying me or my car.
Here is how cold it was…the snow we have had in Jersey this year has been that wet slush. Sure, on the first day it is packable, and difficult for certain people’s Hummer’s to drive over, but it was still lacking something.
I figured it out as soon as I stepped on the snow in Vermont.
The snow in Vermont crunched. It crackled. It stayed firm beneath your feet.
It was also planted every which way we turned.
And I loved it.
So much, that in spite of relentless cold that made it difficult to breathe and turned puffs of warm breath into ice crystals, I was sad to leave…
And may have mentioned to Hubby when I would like to return.