Thaw

Today's lesson on living in New England: the meaning of the word "thaw."

So this is January thaw. Unexpected. Temperatures into the 40s feel downright balmy.

Perfect time to go for a nice hike, right?

Lesson learned. Apparently "thaw" does not mean that the snow melts and goes away. Thaw means that the snow melts and refreezes into sheets of ice.

Today I learned that hiking after a thaw is not what I'd expected. No striding athletically on vanishing snow. More like gingerly stepping and slipping on what felt like the world's largest slip-n-slide. To make matters worse, dogs had unerringly chosen the rare patches of grass for their potties. Dog owners had not removed the solid results of their pets' pottying. It was quite an obstacle course. Jump from grass patch to grass patch, (look out for the dog poo!), and skid down the perilous ice sheets. Around me, my children merrily skipped like goats along the ice.

I blame my boots.

Darn Sorels. Should have gotten LLBean.