It’s a glorious day here in Keystone, with about 3 inches of fluffy new snow and sunny skies — but I’m heading back to Boulder and won’t be back up here probably until May. And what this really means is that for the second winter in a row I didn’t ski a single day during the entire ski season. My friends who come to stay with us and actually ski think I’m quite strange. I agree with that, but think that what really happens is that I’d rather read than ski, which is what I do a lot of up here, and I’d rather spend the days with Brad, who doesn’t even pretend to ski like I do. I guess we have a mountain house as opposed to a ski house. Maybe next winter I’ll break in my "new" boots.
Thoughts In Random Patterns 