Tired, slightly windburned, and very happy

And FINALLY, my skiing season started. It certainly took long enough, considering we're almost halfway through January and I just now made it to a mountain. Mount Snow, that is. I've visited the resort at least once per year since I was about 9 years old, always on a bus trip through my town's parks and rec. committee (yeah, the ski trips are pretty much the best thing my town does all year). I love me some group-discount tickets. Here are a few ups and downs, because I refuse to believe in complete perfection:



Epic wins:

• Fresh, ungroomed powder
• Continuous natural snow throughout the day (but not so much that I couldn't see)
• An entire day of skiing. Enough said.
• Sitting next to an attractive ski instructor from Berkshire East on a lift
• Getting the gold chair on one of the lifts on the North Face
• Bruised shins - I love battle scars
• New snow pants and mittens  (mittens > gloves)
• Moguls that actually had snow left on them (much preferred to the icy bumps that are generally left around at the end of the season)

Only pansies stay inside during wintertime. 

Epic Fails:

• Gale force winds and slow lifts
• Hoards of children wanting to show off their MAD SKILLZ because it was "youth pay their age day" GET OFF OF MY LAWN.
• Totally eating it...on a lift trail where lots of people could watch and laugh
• Waking up at 5am to catch the bus. And consequently becoming Queen B*tch, from the land of "I Hate Everyone and Everything" for the next couple of hours.

Deliver me from misery.

Furthermore, skiing makes me feel like I'm exploring in Narnia (major props to my girl Izabel here). I love the snowy evergreens and scampering and fluttering wildlife. I like thin, secluded trails and interesting glades. I've never gotten to a ski resort through a wardrobe, but I'll find Narnia, yet. Wait for it... Bring on the Turkish fudge and the ice castle.

And I'll be best friends with Mr. Tumnus. Obviously.

Okay, so now that I've presented myself as slightly neurotic and enamored with mythical snowy lands, who wants to rent a zip car for a day and go skiing with me once we get back to school? I won't even talk about Narnia. Much.

It's Blizzard Time!

Babes in a hot-tub. Nice.

I love snow. Life would be pretty sweet if I were Japanese Macaque. I would live in the highlands, carry snowballs around, and chill with my friends in natural hot springs. What a sweet life (disclaimer: this opinion may be generated by my having just completed a course on primates.

D'awwwwwwwwww

But I digress. I was talking about the wintery, blustery, snowy mayhem outside right now. The wind is howling and the snowing is blowing sideways, and I couldn't be happier about it. Remember when a storm meant no school, hot cocoa, and silly hats? Well, I can't wait until tomorrow morning when I can drink my coffee, look out the window, and feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside (I love the warm fuzzies). Here are some wintery memories that make me want to put on my snow suit right now:

1. Making an igloo out of shoveled driveway snow.

2. Spontaneously engaging my father in snowball fights. I was rarely met with retaliation.

3. Sledding down the greens at the local golf course. Awesome tip: To make your sled extra fast, spray the bottom with cooking spray. WIN.

4. Coming inside to warm radiators, fresh cookies, and hot cocoa.

nomnomnom

5. Watching the bird feeder outside the kitchen window. Admittedly, this makes me sound like a senior citizen/member of the Audubon society, but few sights are as beautiful as a bright red cardinal flitting across white snow drifts and stopping on evergreen boughs.

6. Flopping backwards into a snow drift and not even worrying about cracking my head open. In hindsight, this may have been a bad idea.

7. Eating fistfuls of snow and telling myself that they were actually just super-healthy sno-cones. Totally not the same...

I was really good at pretending.

8. Taking my dog outside to watch her bound through the snow drifts like a gazelle in high grass. And she's just so dern cute when she snuffles snow up her nose. 

9. Opening my bedroom window to the protruding roof outside. This is important because it allowed me to eat snow, make snowballs, and measure snow-fall height without going outside. Or even leaving my room. So, I may or may not have had a lazy streak. Or....I was incredibly innovative. 

10. Walking words and pictures into the snow with my bootprints. This was most rewarding when I got to make the first tracks across the yard after a storm. I am the maker of footprints and the traverser of pure terrains. I love walking on fresh snow.

SNOW PALACE. WANT. 

The end is near...

Of the semester, that is. And every once in a while, I have to remind myself that there’s a light at the end of this tunnel of finals period. J term is coming. The holidays are coming. Thanksgiving break was a teaser, but it gave me just enough energy to keep going until the end (as of now that is). It’s hard to keep one’s mind on papers and finals and projects when the best time of the year is rapidly approaching.

I always wanted to be a Rockette. I gave up the dream when I learned that they have a minimum height requirement though. Damn.

I love winter. I love piles of sparkling snow and how they offset the earthy green of the pine trees and the red of the cardinals at the bird feeder. I love walking outside and finding animal tracks in the snow. Cats, rabbits, deer, and squirrels leave their footprints in the yard and make it seem more homey and woodsy. I can’t wait to see my dog bound through the drifts and root her nose in the snow, snorting and sneezing when she inhales the powder. I’ll even shovel the driveway; what better way is there to stay warm while drinking in the deliciously chilly air?

Yes please

I love it when it when the sharp of the cold steals your breath – when I can snuggle into boots, sweaters and parkas. When I walk into my house, it will smell like coffee and sugar cookies – homemade with red and green sugar and twisted into S shapes (for “Santa,” of course). The double boiler will be full of melted chocolate and the rolling pin will be at the ready to pulverize candy canes to make homemade peppermint bark.  The living room will smell like the pitch of our real Christmas tree; an artificial tree will never be acceptable, in my opinion.  Colored lights and shiny bulbs will adorn its branches. Ornaments of every size and color will grace its boughs – I understand the appeal of a “classy” tree, adorned with only white lights and silver bulbs, but I prefer the colorfully loud creation that graces my living room every year; my family’s tree may not have sophisticated elegance, but it’s full of memories, jokes, and meanings. And I would rather feel warm and fuzzy than cold and elegant during the holidays.

candycanescandycaneshappinesscandycanescandycanes

This is only a taste of my love for winter and the holiday season. There’s more to come. As I get lost in schoolwork, I’ll need to take breaks to think about everything that I love about this time of year.

“The best way to spread Christmas cheer is singing loud, for all to hear.”