everyday life

A couple of weeks ago Matt and I took a rare and wonderful 24-hour respite from real life.  We spent a night and a day in Vermont at the Hermitage Club and it was absolutely perfect.  While Matt is from Vermont, this was a corner (southwest) of the state we haven’t spent much time.  In fact, I’d never been there.  Now, I can’t wait to go back.  I am in love.

We started our adventure with an evening snowcat ride to the top of Haystack Mountain, now a part of the private Hermitage Club.  We had fondue and drinks in a hut at the top and admired the nighttime views, and then enjoyed a delicious dinner in the gorgeous, brand new lodge.

The next morning dawned clear and cold and we had one of the best breakfasts I’ve ever had at the Hermitage Inn. We knew we were in Vermont and felt right at home because we were sitting under a print of a painting of a duck by Matt’s adored aunt.  We then headed out to ski the pristine slopes of Haystack.  Because the Hermitage is a private club, it’s never crowded.  All morning (and we tragically had to leave after lunch) we skiied directly onto ski lifts. There were #noliftlines.  It had snowed the night before and the mountain was covered in several inches of powder.

Matt and I have skiied a lot, at a lot of places (New England, out west, Europe) and I can say without reservation that this was easily among our top three ski days.  Ever.

We stopped at the same hut where we’d had drinks the night before for a hot chocolate.  Every single person we encountered working at the Hermitage was friendly, warm, and professional.  The service is flawless.  The Hermitage has seen to every detail and made skiing as comfortable as humanly possible.  There is valet parking and people take charge of your skis and gear for you.  The food is delicious.  There are no crowds.  They can’t – yet – control the weather, but the introduction of a covered chairlift before next season will mean that riding up is warm and comfortable. Having quality snowboarding gear on hand also adds to the ease and enjoyment of days spent on the slopes.

Haystack and the Hermitage are simply spectacular.  My only regret is that Grace and Whit weren’t with us as I know they would have adored it.  I think the Hermitage is absolutely built for children.  It would be a fantastic place to learn to ski (no crowds = a much safer environment) and there is a full ski school program. The club has an excellent golf course and the mountain offers excellent biking and hiking opportunities. You can also purchase golf simulator packages for sale to make sure you enjoy golf inside your home. The spa wasn’t yet open when we were there but I imagine it’s, like the rest of the resort, absolutely perfection. There’s no question this is a four-season destination.

There are two ways to ski Haystack: join the Hermitage Club or stay at the Hermitage Inn.  The latter is a great way to get a taste of the Hermitage Club experience, and the Inn itself is, as far as I can tell, the manifestation of a perfect New England inn.  If breakfast is any indication, it’s some of the best dining in Vermont.  They offer tubing, snow-shoeing, and cross-country skiing in addition to direct access to Haystack.  This place is absolute, downright, unfettered magic.  I cannot recommend it highly enough.

 The soaring ceilings of the lodge, with outrageously cool lighting fixtures

Disclosure: we were privileged to visit Haystack and the Hermitage as guests of the club.  All opinions shared here are absolutely my own.

We had a very quiet winter break.  Two weeks at home.  A few days before school got out, on 12/19, I joked to a friend that while some downtime sounded good at that moment I was also pretty sure we’d all be at each others’ throats within a couple of days.  I’m happy to say I was wrong.

Last year Grace made a scavenger hunt for Matt and me which brought home how meaningful the smallest moments can be.  This year, the universe gave me the same message again.

We made Christmas cookies and our Advent candle burned down to a stub.  We saw our family, both those we were born into and those we’ve chosen through dear friendships, in the days leading up to Christmas.  It is my family’s tradition to celebrate Christmas Eve with Ethan‘s family.  This family was one of the cornerstones of my childhood and they remain very important to me.  Grace and Whit both used a saber to take the top off of champagne bottles, we sang Christmas carols, and we talked at dinner about the world, travel, photography, gratitude and love.  On Christmas Day both of our children slept in and Whit came racing downstairs at 8:30 and asked, without hesitation, “where’d you put my book?”  Not: can I open presents?  But: where is my book?  If there is a pinnacle of motherhood for me, that might have been it.  I had had to take away The Phantom Tollbooth the night before when I busted him reading it by headlamp at midnight.

On Christmas Day we saw my parents for present-opening and then Matt’s parents and brother and family for dinner.  After that the four of us went for a walk in the cold, clear darkness.  We walked around our familiar neighborhood, and I felt a deep sense of contentment take root inside of me.  This is Christmas, I thought to myself (that’s when we took the photo above).

We went skiing for the day, enjoying warm temperatures but working hard to avoid the rocks poking through the thin snow cover.

We went to a Harvard hockey game which was great fun, though I was shocked by the negative cheering and booing of the other team’s fans, among whom we sat.

We spent a lot of time at home.  I did some work.  Grace and Whit read books, enjoyed their Christmas presents, watched movies, did a lot of skating, and played with friends who were also local.

The outrageous, saturated blue of the sky and an Instagram from Kelle Hampton made me think of these words from Barbara Brown Taylor, which I love.

On New Year’s Eve, we celebrated as a foursome, as has become our custom.  We had a nice dinner by candlelight, played a family game, had brownie sundaes, and watched a couple of episodes of Modern Family.  Matt and I went to bed before 11 and Grace an Whit stayed up to watch the ball drop.  The next day they told us that Grace heard a noise downstairs that made her nervous so Whit came down (his bedroom is a flight up) with his foam sword and shield to protect her.  The heart palpitates at the chivalry, no?

New Year’s Day dawned bright, clear, and cold.  We drove to one of our family’s truly holy places, and walked on the winter beach.  Grace and Whit slept in, so it was later than it is often is, which means we weren’t alone on the beach.  We watched people dashing into the freezing water and dogs prancing along the frozen sand through eyes that watered from the cold wind.  I photographed our shadows.  We didn’t stay long, but it was gorgeous.

It was a lovely, full, empty two weeks.  Full of love and empty of expectations.  Maybe that combination is the secret of life.  I cracked my shins on altars regularly.

Welcome, 2015!