The first rule of Chick Trip is that conversations in the hot tub stay in the hot tub. However, our rustic riverside cabin didn’t come equipped with a Jacuzzi, so we improvised by designating the entire cabin an honorary hot tub, and mysterious and enthralling were the words that passed between the friends within its walls. Sadly, I can’t tell you any of them.
But I can show you pictures.
The cabin was everything a cabin should be–woodsy, warm, full of charming secondhand furniture and antique tchotchkes, and equipped with a working DVD player.
The weather outside was frightful, but the toasty central heat was delightful, and we busied ourselves inside watching movies, scrapbooking, eating, doing puzzles, and, of course, talking nonstop.
A quintet of identical bathroom bags.
I wonder where we’ll end up next year. It’s kinda hard to top a giant lumberjack.
*Check out a fellow Chick’s take on the weekend’s festivities here!