Last year, a few of my writing friends met up in snowy Utah for a weekend of food and fun. We affectionately title the weekend SNOW BUNNY, for some funny reason that I can no longer remember. No, it has nothing to do with the this picture wherein I am wearing bunny pajamas and holding the world’s largest gummy worm. Christmas party. You know how it goes
Last weekend, SNOW BUNNY 2.0 went down, with the usual suspects, minus Becca Fitzpatrick, who got sick the day before (and was sorely missed), and plus one of my favorite people on the planet, Irene Latham, a friend from my days of Alabama yore. She’d missed the year before so I was glad she could make it this go around.
My parents have a house near Park City, and in this house lives a 5-foot stuffed moose that my sister-in-law gave my mother as a gift ten years ago (longish story). The moose is so large that sometimes I walk in a room and think it’s a stalker with large ears or one of those dorky beer guzzling hats. Like this…
But probably not as scary as that picture of me in the bunny suit. You can see why I didn’t squeeze those pink PJs into my carry-on.
A few trip highlights:
The HGTV dream house: Just a few miles away from where we stayed. Pretty sure I didn’t win, despite the fact that I entered everyday in the hopes of owning my own writing haven. We drove up, tried to sweet talk the security guard into letting us in, then commented, “Wow, it’s not that big in person, huh?” As you do when you see architectular wonders that have been built up in your head for far too long.
Milkshakes: I think that one is self explanatory. Raspberry brownie.
Watching Downton Abbey with people who care about Downton Abbey: I have tried to no avail to get my husband interested in this spectacular show. His take: “It’s just a bunch of British people in period dress being dramatic about history” Direct quote. In other news, he’s very hot, so we forgive his shortcomings. But whoa, the season finale! What a way to go. I anticipate a trip to BN really soon where I buy every book on the “If you like Downton Abbey, you’ll like this” endcap.
Oh. And writing. We did that too. I got some wonderful critique notes on my upcoming contemporary story, and might even have a title for said story. MIGHT.
Now, a weekend later, I am sitting next to my two-year-old’s crib so she can hold my hair and fall asleep while I get back into the blogging swing of things. As lovely as this is… yes. I miss those milkshakes. AND MY FRIENDS.