Snow, Spooks, and Spectacular Skiing

What an adventure!

Patrick and I had an amazing time this weekend. Our trip started at The Brewster Inn in Dexter, ME. We were greeted by an overzealous Englishman with a blunt personality and a mean hash brown egg casserole. Besides trudging up a snow-packed hill and getting spooked at about 2 a.m., we had a pleasant stay. 

Am I the only one who over-exaggerates thoughts and dreams in the middle of the night? Everything seems so real, even if it was just a scary dream. Anyways, I woke up with the sound of water running and my immediate thought was: ghost (which I don't even believe in in real life). We were staying in the maids quarters, so I was convinced that a maid died painfully in the room next to ours and would return to wash the blood off the bath tub every night. I may have a sweet face people, but don't let it fool you. I have abnormally crazy stories that run through my head at the wee hours of the morning (I need to keep a journal next to my bed). I tossed and turned for the next few hours, and then remembered the inn keeper telling us that a couple was leaving "dreadfully early." What a relief!

Once the sun came up, and my fear just magically disappeared, we woke to about five added inches of snow. UGH! A snow day is great in the South, but it's just an annoyance up here. The ski resort was about two hours from the B&B, and we already paid for the tickets so there was no going back. Needless to say, it took around three hours of holding my breath and narrow back roads to get to the mountain. But once we got there, the sight of the snow and fog took my breath away.

I wouldn't call myself a "beginner" skier. I've skied a few times in my life and would like to think that I've sort of caught on to the sport a little bit. Don't go thinking I'll be in Sochi next winter or anything, but I can make it down the mountain one way or another. I say all of this to explain my confidence going into this trip. I've never been to a mountain this big. It doesn't even compare to Snow Shoe (The biggest ski resort I've been to), so I was immediately intimidated. The 141 slopes were filled with fresh snow and moguls. A seasoned skier's paradise. After the first slope, I turned into your typical timid Tammy for the rest of the day. While riding the roller coaster of a lift, fear rushed over me every time I looked up the mountain. "What am I thinking?" "I shouldn't be here." Those were a few of the many frantic thoughts rushing through my mind.

Patrick was eating it up...cutting through the snow, racing down the mountain. He even landed a jump at the end of the day. I, on the other hand, was slowly cutting through the snow trying my hardest not to break a leg. By the end of the day, I finally started to breath a little and let loose. 

Overall, it was an incredible experience and was well worth the ghost scares and snowy roads. 

Here's a little collage action for your Monday.

The fog is covering at least 2/3 of the mountain. It was ginormous. 

An Extraordinary Maine Morning

After a long, hard week of grocery shopping, cooking, a little cleaning, occupying Planet Fitness, exhausting the web with my jobs searches, watching The Chew, and cuddling with Walter (our cat) it's nice to have a nice, relaxing Saturday morning with the hubs. Yeah, I understand that this is a very slow season of my life, but I might as well enjoy it while I can, right? 

Anyways...I like traditions. Now that I have a small family of my own, Patrick and I have tried to start a few traditions that will hopefully carry on when we have a larger family one day. One of those traditions, which is a very common one, is weekend pancakes. I've made them from scratch just about every weekend since we've been married (give or take a few that we've been out of town). It seems like I've tried a different recipe every time, but this morning was exceptionally good. I usually make whole wheat or oatmeal pancakes, but I went with the grand supreme this morning...chocolate chip buttermilk pancakes. Light, fluffy, chocolaty...perfection. Plus the fact that hubs does the dishes, makes them taste that much better. 

This post isn't about pancakes, I promise. But it does add to the simplicity of our Maine mornings. This morning is extra special. We're packing up for a short ski getaway at Sugar Loaf. We're staying at a quaint B&B tonight and skiing all day tomorrow. Pictures to come. 

As we leisurely gather our things, I get to enjoy Walter running sluggishly prancing around the apartment, and Pat sweetly serenading me in the other room. 

This was a time I tried a sweater on Walter. He went limp, so after about 5 minutes of laughs I decided to take it off. I need to find an outfit he can actually run around in. Let me know if you have any suggestions.

I think Walter knows that we'll be out of town for a day. He's been acting very strange this morning. Moping around and meowing a lot (he rarely ever meows). Who knows? It may just be me subconsciously thinking he's going to miss us because we're going to miss him, even though it's just for a day. Weird, I know. We're "those" people. I'm not too good to admit it. 

So to save a few bucks at the slope we decided to pack a few snacks/lunch. Slope food is pricey. I thought I would pack some good fatty protein and potassium (hence the graham crackers filled with PB and bananas) and hubs threw up a big box of oatmeal creme pies. I didn't object. I threw in a couple sandwiches and water as well (not pictured). 

Even though I love my lazy Saturdays with Patrick, I'm ready to hit the road for a new adventure!