Growing up in Chicago, my family often vacationed over Christmas to the ski resorts of the West. Winter Park, Colorado, was one of our favorite destinations. Vail, Steamboat, and Heavenly also found our travel calendar. I'm thankful to my parents for taking me and my two brothers to the mountains each year, not only because we learned how to ski...and became pretty good at it (not going to happen on the midwest bumps like Wilmot "Mountain")...but the cold weather adventures reinforced a White Christmas tradition.
Now, in my mind, snow and Christmas go together like Peanut Butter N' Jelly...a burger and fries...a workout and sweat. When we spend Christmas at home in San Diego, the lack of white powder on the ground leaves me with a longing feeling--jealous of anyone in the immediate presence of snow.
This year, my White Christmas craving is more than satisfied. We're spending the holiday with family in Sisters, Oregon, where the Cascades have been blessed with 3 feet of snow in the last week!
Merry Christmas to all and to all a good sweat!!
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