Puffy piles of powder

What a magical day on the mountain. Big fluffy snowflakes, perfect powder, dreamy creamy lines down the slopes. We only did 5 or 6 runs, because I was teaching my teenage niece to ski. I’m only an intermediate skier and I’ve never taught anyone, so it’s good thing she picked it up fast. She was doing great by the end of the day. Neither of us wanted to leave. I may have dreams about that powder. I hope so. It was perfect, and exactly what I needed. Well, that and the trip to the Powell’s mothership. The flagship store is amazing. If I hadn’t planned my wedding for Anarcotes, I would totally have tried to have it in the Powell’s rare book room, followed by a trip to a ski resort with a bunch of friends. Funny how things work out.

See You Again – Carrie Underwood
Baby, I Lied – Deborah Allen

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