Getting out

I moved to Boston six and a half years ago. Until last winter, I couldn’t figure out what the big deal was about Boston winters. Sure, they’re cold. Sure, they’re snowy. So what? I can take it! I’m from Maine! It was only last winter that I realized what a fool I had been. Every year, we had gone somewhere warm and lovely in February: Ethiopia, Mexico, Ethiopia again, Botswana, and South Africa. Last year, we went to Sugarloaf to go skiing.

People, Sugarloaf is many things, but it is not warm and lovely. And it became very clear around early February that Boston winters are infamous for a reason. And that staying in Boston all winter long would lead all of us to insanity (especially last year, when the kids were praying for it NOT to snow by the end of the season). And that I was an idiot for thinking that the winters here are tolerable. And that those Maine genes aren’t as strong as I thought.

We just got two feet of snow. We are supposed to be getting another foot on Monday. The extended forecast has four days of snow in the next ten days. Children never have school any more. I get no work done. I am hanging on by a thread.

This year, we’re getting out. Sorry, Sugarloaf. We have friends in Hilton Head and near Palm Beach. Those lucky suckers get to host us for February vacation as we flee the cold. We will fly to Savannah, spend the night at a hotel there and then rent a car and drive to Hobe Sound. After three days there, we will spend three nights in Orlando and then drive back to Hilton Head where we will spend another three days before (maybe) returning to the frozen tundra.

Daughter and I went to Hilton Head in June to visit our friend Mis, and it was glorious. GLORIOUS! We haven’t been to Florida since we took Son five years ago, but we predict a wild and crazy time with our friends and our combined eight kids. And also, Disney, which is a whole other post altogether.

Now, we just pray that we make it out without any more snow ruining our flight plans. NO. MORE. SNOW.


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