It’s Monday morning and I’m still on a skiing high from my day at Stratton Mountain, VT yesterday. It was a blast! This year I got the Stratton Sunday pass, which means every Sunday I will be heading north to the mountains of Vermont to strap on my skis and pretend I am Picabo Street. Whoo! One reason I am so in love with Stratton is because it’s where I learned to ski so many years ago. Ah the memories. Back in elementary school my family used to head up to VT on February break, stay at my great-aunt Barbara’s condo (RIGHT next to the mountain!), take ski lessons and enjoy the ski-side village. While at Stratton yesterday I got a chance to walk through the village and it was exactly the same as I remembered it…. just seemed a little bit smaller (isn’t it funny how that happens when you get older?). Glorious. The skiing is amazing too– they have so many lifts and trails, plus they have great snow! I’m told it resembles the ski mountains out west… hopefully I will get out there someday to experience western skiing for myself!