A week of skiing -- a first for our family -- and we have returned to our regular station. Sigh. Happy to be home. Fun to rent a creaky old house and explore all the nooks and crannys unfettered. I liked sitting by the fire and discussing (well, if you're talking mostly to yourself, is it discussing?) what I would do with said house if it were mine. Funny selection of books on the dark built-ins flanking the fireplace, ranging from the bright, shiny "Woof: The Gay Man's Guide to Dogs" to a yellow, stocky paperback called "The Making of a Quagmire: America and Vietnam during the Kennedy Era" by David Halberstam. The older boys really did become skiers, which was one of our goals, and I didn't break anything, which was one of mine. Not sure when I became such a chicken, but I am, so there you go.