Ski (less) Weekend

In White Christmas fashion (mutual, I'm sure), some old and new friends and I headed up to Vermont this past weekend for a little winter fun. The weekend actually was neither white nor christmas-y. But it was in Vermont and we did do a lot of singing and dancing around the farm house we stayed in. Just kidding, mostly we just hung out and ate chili.

On Saturday while the majority of folks were shredding up Mt. Killington in a man made winter wonderland, some of us took a different approach to the ski weekend. We drank tea and explored a cute nearby town. There was knitting, and puzzling and napping. And there was absolutely no skiing. Truth be told, barreling down a mountain side with two fiberglass sticks strapped on to my feet doesn't really sound like a great time (I have no idea if that's what skis are made of, I just made that up. . .)

The farmhouse we rented is a glorious weekend getaway even sans skiing, though. I've stayed there several times in the fall but never in winter. Sadly, only a dusting of snow graced the rolling hills of the property, but it was just as beautiful as ever. And this year, for the first time ever, I actually went and visited the resident horse on the property. Not only that, I patted it. And talked to it. 

And gave it a carrot.

If you know anything about it me, you know that animals--not really my thing. I like zoos and aquariums and animal planet. I don't really enjoy pets though, or having animals in my space. Recently, howewver, a strange change has been taking place, in that sometimes, I kind of actually like animals. Just a little bit. Like when the happy horse who was so friendly tried to eat a button off my coat, and I didn't even really mind. . .

I think I might be coming down with something.