Continuing the misadventures from last week, I am still with the same two pals as we cruise around the South Shore of Massachusetts. It has been an unseasonably warm week up until the day we decide to get together and drive around. Of course, for the first time in five days, the temperature drops and the wind chill becomes ear-piercingly frigid.
We stop at a scenic overlook, part of a farm-type school, and encounter snow. No, not a lot of snow, but patches of it here and there in small bucket-sized splotches. This is amazing to us since our area of New England has gotten about as much snow as South Carolina has gotten this winter. Ridiculously excited, we take a picture with the snow just to prove that we found some. Honestly, though, it is so cold, so numbingly freezing, that we run back to the car and grab more layers and hats and scarves and anything we can find to wrap around ourselves. The outing lasts less than ten minutes, and we are cold-hobbled by the time we stagger back to the vehicle.
Next we drive along the coast to perhaps fly a kite. Oh, the wind for kite-flying is strong, but the only way the kite will fly is if we suffer hypothermia and frostbite. We walk along the beach for longer than we probably should but ultimately decide that kite flying is not worth death.
We run a few errands that require us to cross great distances in parking lots because everyone and his brother and uncle seem to be out and about. Eventually, the day draws near to its end when someone suggests a quick drink, perhaps an appetizer, to finish off the day. As long as it's indoors, I'm game.
We get ourselves into the restaurant and sit near the window so we can watch the bay as the sun sets, casting long shadows over the water. When the waitress asks us for our drink order, we should probably say something warm like hot coffee, or rich with biting alcohol like brandy. After all, we are still trying to thaw out from an awesome but chilly day of adventure.
We are New Englanders, and because we probably have no brain cells left that have not been chilled to oblivion, we order a round of mudslides. You read that correctly: We order frozen drinks. But, you see, there is a method to our madness. This way, the frozen drink comes with a straw, and we won't have to pick up and hold the glasses that are covered with frost. We can simply tilt the straws as the drinks sit on the table, totally not molesting our defrosting fingers.
Brilliance, apparently, never freezes. By the time we are ready to truly finish up the day, we've warmed ourselves up by belly-laughing for hours.
