My husband’s father’s family lives in Vermont and we try to go see them at least once a year. We like going in the winter and had wanted to try for something in February, but had yet to decide anything.
A week and a half ago my husband called me and said, “I need to get out-of-town.”
“You okay?” I asked, concerned that he was having a relapse of his health scare in November.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just need a vaca.”
We discussed our schedules for a minute and I said I could go the next weekend; he could too. So we called his dad and said we would be coming up for a visit.
I didn’t post about this at the time because I didn’t want to jinx it. We drive when we go see them, so at any point up until we left, we could have found a reason not to go. My husband is working on a few projects that are coming close to completion, so at the moment getting out of the city is tough for him. My work has had a lot of last-minute projects that I’ve picked up, so I could have found myself needing to take an extra day or two. Thankfully, we knew we needed this and didn’t allow anything to prevent us from getting up Thursday morning earlier than roosters and driving east.
I don’t have any pictures of the drive, as it was a dreary day and this crazy warm winter everyone has had means that there was no luscious snow coating the mountainous view. In fact my husband and I kept singing the White Christmas song “Snow” as we travelled north, wishing for the white fluffy stuff as we passed the dry highway shoulders of Pennsylvania and New York, and then eventually Vermont.
In all honesty though, I’m okay with the no snow. It prevents us from taking the snow mobiles up into the mountain or running from the hot tub to the snow drifts in his dad’s front yard, but I love coming here no matter what the weather. White Christmas really nailed it; Vermont is a gorgeous, breathtaking state.