Snow devils

We had finally gotten the majority of the cabin to a reasonable temperature. The ice had started to melt off the inside windows, only the bedrooms still had ice crystals on the floor, and it was comfortable if you were wearing long sleeves, a sweater, and some sort of shoe. We were a happy foursome, our friend B., who reminds me of Bear Grylls, having snowshoed over later that night.

DH braved the cold that morning to drill a hole through the ice so we could have water to wash the dishes. We were boiling snow to get drinking and cooking water. I had no idea that so much snow produced so little water. Talk about little reward for lots of effort.

B. and DH ventured out to start the sauna. Sauna is something my island friend had introduced me to back at the beginning of medical school. I fell completely in love with the whole concept, and fully intend to install one in my home at some point. The island sauna is an exterior feed, which means someone has to go outside of the building to put more wood in the fire. Another fabulous summer plan that is more challenging in the winter.

While they were working on that C. and I started cooking. Brie, fig preserves, and french bread made an excellent snack. Paella, homemade herbed bread, apple crisp with fresh whipped cream. We tucked the ragout de chevreuil (venison stew) in the oven. It called for a full bottle of wine, but we decided we would only share a cup of our wine with the stew. We had pulled that wine two miles across the lake. It was going accompany dinner, not be in the dinner. (All of the food was amazing, for those who wonder about such things.)

It is a tradition to wear bathrobes to the sauna, no matter how cold it is. However, it was also - 39F outside. In a concession to the weather, we put full winter gear over our swimsuits, and bathrobes over the winter coats. We looked ridiculous.

The sauna was a heavenly 180F. After about 10 minutes inside, I worked up my courage. I was going to continue the tradition and make a snow angel. I took a bracing drink of the cava we had stuck in a bucket of snow, shoved my feet in my boots, and ran outside. Steam poured off my skin.

Deep breath.

Jump.

That was a stupid idea.

I went first, but I was not alone. B. had decided to join me. He, however, was going to dive in head first. Apparently when he heard me screaming unrepeatable words, he thought a second too long about it. You can't think when you are doing something that ridiculous. You just do it. He did a nice normal jump in and promptly jumped back out. Didn't even wave his arms around. Wimp.

I sprinted back to the sauna leaving a perfect snow angel and a stream of vulgar language behind.

I really thought the snow would be warmer than the air. They claim that it's an insulator. I think they are lying. My skin didn't stop burning for almost thirty minutes. I suppose that's what I deserve for attempting a 220 degree skin temperature change in under a minute.

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(Just kidding, B. ~ He is much tougher than I am in the cold department. He's one of those Polar Bear Club guys. You know, the crazy ones who jump in the iced over lakes on New Year's Day. That is a whole different level of crazy. However, there are also trained medical personnel there to rescue you from self induced hypothermia. That makes it slightly less crazy. Only slightly.)