We arrived in Vermont to spend Christmas with the Searles family late on Christmas Eve after driving to the San Diego airport, taking a 6 hour flight to Boston, then a two and a half hour shuttle ride to NH, and finally a drive from Hanover, NH to Woodstock/South Pomfret, VT where my parents live. I joked to Brad that it felt like our epic journey would end with a mule ride. But it all went remarkably smoothly. For those of you who know our travels well, that is quite unexpected.
Christmas in Vermont was everything a Christmas in Vermont is supposed to be: constant fire in the fire place, a postcard view outside, mountains covered in snow, bundled up drinking hot drinks and eating good food - all around fabulous. How can people not love at least some cold during the year?! When else do you get to feel that cozy? We kept joking that it was too bad we didn't have a white Christmas, haha. (As you will see from the picture below, a white Christmas was not lacking in any way.)
Sitting down to a wonderful Christmas dinner - got to do the timer picture!
One of our presents to my parents and also my sister, Jen, were scrapbooks of our trip to England in May. It was fun to sit and relive all the funny stories.
My mother is quite the walker. Mom and Dad have their very own side of a small mountain to hike up and down with the dogs, and Mom has been known to get a bit lost. Dad's solution? A walking stick with a compass on top. She was quite excited, as you can tell.
Jenny got Dad a perfect gift - chains for the bottom of his shoes to aid in walking on the snow. He was also quite thrilled. As he likes to say, "it's a product that works."
The view out Mom and Dad's front door. Everything a girl living in San Diego could want!
Mom is standing right next to that pile of snow so that you have some perspective on how giant it was! Thankfully, they have someone to plow their steep driveway after the big snow falls, hence the enormous mound.
Mom and Dad's 15 year-old American Eskimo, Liza, is like a puppy again in the snow. She bounces around eating it every time she goes out. We call her the "snow dog." Not very original, but fitting nonetheless.
Even I had to get right in the front yard to play with the dogs. (Odie the Schnauzer is also a fan of the snow, but was a little intimidated by how deep it was!)