Perhaps you heard about the snowstorms that swept the East Coast this Christmas. I heard New York got it pretty bad, and I wish I had been there to see it - I love when the city shuts down. Take that, New York. You're not always on top of everything. The snow will always getcha. Maine is a different story. They're well prepared for this kind of thing. At the first mention of an impending snowstorm, you can just hear hundreds of plows rev their engines. We decided it was necessary that we enjoy the storm before the plows got ahold of it, so as the snow started to fall, Dylan, my sister Erin and I bundled up, filled thermoses with hot chocolate, and braved the storm. We sang as many Christmas carols as we could think of (because we're dorks like that) as we headed towards the old Victorian center of Bath, about a 20 minute walk away. We were amazed to find a bar open, as everything else had closed up for the night, and we congratulated ourselves for our get-up-and-go over a few pints. It was the highlight of Christmas (with teaching my 2 year old niece that snow is soft enough to toss oneself into as a close second).
(Can't take credit for the charming photos - Dylan's getting pretty good with his new camera, huh?)