Husband’s birthday is this weekend. We’re having a shindig at our place, full of family and friends and wine and cake. People. Are. Coming. To. My. Messy. Messy. House.
So, in order to distract myself from the looming errands, prep cooking, vacuuming and generally making this place not entirely frightening for company, I’ve been going through the photos from our trip—the ones that don’t involve cookies, cupcakes and carrot cake, that is. So while I’m at it, I thought I’d share a few with you.
This gorgeous little stretch of Highway 24 was on the way home from the skiing part of our vacation, on our way from Breckenridge back to Colorado Springs. It was serene. It was beautiful. It was nothing like…
…the drive there. This photo was taken during a 60 second period during which my fingernails retracted from Husband’s knee. When I saw the “Icy Road” sign, I believe I said something like, “no s#$%, Sherlock,” snapped a photo, and then burrowed my nails back into his skin.
RDG is not built for this type o climate. My heart can’t handle the car rides.
I seriously hope I never have to be in a vehicle that actually needs to use one of these things.
Something tells me that if I “lost” my brakes, the last thing that would come instinctually would be to stay on the freaking highway.
We finally, finally, arrived at our destination. At this point, I was carsick, freaked as all get-out about the ice gliding under our tires, and soooo in need of a margarita.
I was consoled by the fact that Breckenridge is a cute dang town. Snowy, festive, and…
…did I mention cute? This house makes me want to curl up by a roaring fire with a cup of tea. Spiked with bourbon.
Who am I kidding? I would probably spend all day dancing around my house singing songs about how cute my dang house is.
Speaking of cute, have you ever seen a cuter Starbucks? I don’t normally do the ‘Bucks (no offense to my pals who work at corporate), but this cute-as-a-button little yellow location almost made me want a mocha.
Our hotel (well, Ma and Dad-in-law’s timeshare) was right up this road. See that light at the top of the peak in the background? That’s a Cat, my friends. Could you imagine driving one of those things over a deserted snowy mountain in the dark? Freaky. And not in a silly way.
The next day, I was so dang excited to hit the slopes. I hadn’t skied in two seasons, since last year I was eight months pregnant at the time and would have collapsed the chairlift had I tried to ride it. Plus I was busy, you know, sleeping and eating every cake in sight.
It was cold (-12 windchill), and I wasn’t feeling great, so we skied a half day and went back after lunch. Nothing could stop me, I told myself, from tearing up the slopes the next day, all day long, when I would be more acclimatized and my legs would be stronger.
Nothing, that is, except strep throat, which landed me in the hospital two days later. On my vacation. In the ER at a skiing destination where they don’t know how do do anything except cast broken legs. Luckily, the doc hooked me up with a hefty dose of antibiotics and I spent the next few days watching movies in the hotel room.
By friday, I was good to go. It was the last day on the slopes, and I wanted, nay–needed–to ski that entire mountain.
And oh, was it everything I thought it would be. The sun was shining, the snow was perfect with a dusting of fresh powder, it was a temperate 22 degrees with no wind, and nothing could stop me from skiing until my legs gave out.
It was one of the most perfect days of skiing that I can remember. Really, one of the most perfect days I have ever spent outdoors.
We skied until our legs were rubber, packed it in, and headed back to the hotel to prepare for departing the next day.
The drive back was gorgeous, sunny, and luckily none of us landed in…
…jail. Although if we did, something tells me that it would be pretty easy to break out of.
Well I’m off to tackle my mounting list of to-do’s. Stay tuned this week for some lovely baked goods, some scrumptious dinners, and to hear all about the feast I’m cooking up for Husband’s birthday.
Happy hump day!