Ice. Ice. Baby.

The Plymouth Ice Festival turned 30 this year! There appears to be some debate about the facts—Wikipedia claims it’s the largest and oldest ice sculpture fest in North America, and the festival page claims it’s the largest and oldest FREE ice sculpture fest—but either way, it’s a fun, nippy, crowded time.

We met up with Carl’s dad and step-mom, his brother, sister-in-law, and (of course) the twins for Sunday lunch and a long stroll through the park.

Soph took her time getting into the spirit of the thing.

Unlike Bella. They might be twins, but they’ve definitely got their own grooves going.

Cinderella’s glass slipper, however, is cause for major cheer.

Starbucks and snowball fights to warm up.

And lots of playing in the snow. Cute girls in their cute hats. It was a great way to close out the weekend… and then naturally it warmed right up and rained most of the day on Monday, so the park is probably all mud and ice stumps now. We’ve had an unusually mild winter this year—four inch daffodil stalks and one inch iris greens in our front garden already.

Hope the crazy weather doesn’t confuse the flowers too much. I need to know what we’ve got in those flower beds before I can figure out how to take care of them.

Adventures for another season, I guess.


One thought on “Ice. Ice. Baby.

  1. Love your photos, especially the first shot of the snowball fight with snow all scattered in the air around the young niece. And who knew that Plymouth had a major ice festival? Hooray for local celebrations!

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