If you don’t like the weather, wait five minutes. It’ll change.
Planning any kind of a winter roadtrip in New England is ridiculous. Take this coming weekend, when we’ll be heading north for the campground holiday party.
Ideal plan: We head up Thursday night, giving Mr S a headstart on sledding, the guys all plenty of ATVing time, me time to work on my book and the holiday party Saturday afternoon.
Forecast: Extreme cold
Okay, so Mr S will head up Thursday night and then the boys and I will drive up Saturday morning for the party, meaning we only spend one night in the tin can. This means the boys and I can meet my sister halfway between houses and do a mini-xmas on Friday. Good plan.
Forecast: Let’s throw some snow in there for Saturday!
Hmmm…maybe the boys and I could meet my sister on Friday and then drive up to the campground Friday night, beating the snow. But, depending how much we get, I could have trouble getting the stupid rear-wheel-drive car home on Sunday.
Forecast: Oh hai! Let’s throw in some snow on Friday, too!
Now I’m just getting pissed. If the boys and I want to be at the party, we’re going to have to go up with Mr S on Thursday night and spend the long weekend there. And I’m going to have to change the date with my sister. The kids all go back to school Monday, so we’d have to do it this Wednesday.
GAH!
I have no doubt if I call my sister right now and make a date for Wednesday, the forecast will change again. In the meantime I will sit here, overwhelmed by the sheer amount of cold-weather crap we’ll need for a long weekend up north.
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Stay. Home.
I’m afraid of snow. It’s why I live in a place that gets it MAYBE once a year. I beg to stay home til it goes away but my DH usually drags me out to the car. There I sit with my fingers gripping the door handle looking for my first opportunity to flee. Since my eyes are closed, it’s hard to find that opportunity.
Stay. Home.
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You are a brave woman. Looks like the snow is for sure. Don’t know when you’ll see your sister. I hope it all works out. I’m so not out outdoorsy. Once November rolls around I start with the fireplace and sitting around it.
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And did you enjoy our 45 degree rain yesterday?
MunchkinBoy is coming back from Moultonborough 2 days early due to snow, he’s missing 2 days playing with my sister’s boys who he only sees a handful of times a year. . My Dad just called and said they’re on their way, and to unfreeze the half stacked wood, and move it for a new truckload. Where’s my coffee?
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Oh, go spend the long weekend in the snow. It’s insulating.
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I can’t stay home. Snow’s a fact of life, and I don’t have that kind of love for these four walls.
And there’s nothing like a 45-degree winter rain when you’re married to a snowmobiler. “This rain is eating the snow!” was something I heard more than a few times.
Irony—I was so focused on Friday I totally missed the forecast for today. Now I have three extra kids and the snow’s falling. Only 2-5″, but still. Doh!
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This is why I can never fulfill my romantic fantasy of moving to Alaska and marrying a chief of police. I’m afraid of snow. That and my current husband frowns on me seeking a new one.