The Vacation That Wasn't

Yet again, we packed our bags, pulled out the ski clothes, got the munchkins some snow boots, and headed off for the wilds of West Virginia. As occurred last year, when we arrived in Canaan Valley, there was a small (minuscule, really) amount of snow on the ground. With hopes of teaching Thomas & Gabrielle the basics of the "pizza" skiing moves on the bunny slope, and dreams of clocking a little time on the "big kid" slopes, we awoke the next morning to ....

...rain.

And then more rain. And more mud. Et cetera, et cetera.

When this happened last year (and we had no crazy hopes of teaching 1 1/2 year old to ski), it was at least sunny. So, we trekked into the nature preserve, hunting for beavers in their dams. We plopped the kids in our toddler carrier backpacks and explored the trails. We ventured into the town of Thomas and enjoyed some bluegrass at the Purple Fiddle.

But there was none of that this year. In the three days of our "vacation" we did visit most of the local eateries, played ski-ball (a big hit!) at the local pizza joint/arcade, visit the resort playroom, and swim indoors at the state park. Like last year, we did get a chance to go to the local artisan gallery, Mountain Made, and their nearby "general store," which we always enjoy.

Oh, and instead of the two hour drive of last year spent searching for the elusive windmills that we saw far upon the ridge, this year, we were able to drive straight to them, park nearby, and sit in wonder of their massive size and power. Good times.

Some of the highlights:

The windmills, of course.

Making coffee with paper towel filters.

Thumping up and down the stairs. Up and down, down, down.

Oh! And throwing socks and underwear off the loft balcony.