I need to address peoples need to ski. I took my son and his friend snow tubing since it is winter, and school break, and it is something for kids to do which will allow me a couple of hours to catch up on my reading. Jon and his friend are not proficient in the art of skiing and so a suggestion for snow tubing seems adequate. They seem to be content with this, but I am sure that if I'd just let them hang out on the couch playing video games, they would have been just as happy.

We arrive at Sno Mountain, and the parking lot is not heavily loaded. It actually, seems a little too empty, but I am not going to complain since my true mission is to start my new book The Girls, by Lori Lansens. Before we even left, I had a feeling the boys were under dressed but what do I know about snow activities. Being born in Puerto Rico, my body does not understand any need to be subjected to cold blustery wind. To say that I have an aversion to skiing and at times, its patrons, is a mild understatement. My one definitive hope is the awaiting lodge with its comfy leather chairs, couches and giant fireplace. For this I am appropriately dressed, oh yes siree. Once inside I kindly ask the attendant where the main lodge might be, as the boys get ready for their jaunt up the hill to the tubing area. The kind attendant looks at me with a kind of confused smile and says, "uh, this is it". "What!!", it can't be. This crowded, noisy, filled with kids place. it just cannot be.

Jon and his friend, whose name incidentally is John, go off, leaving me perplexed and utterly disoriented. I wander about in a circle, akin to my dog buster's act, when he is trying to find a comfortable place to nestle in. Aren't ski lodges suppose to be lodgey type of pretty wood places with comfy chairs, big fireplaces and a token deer hanging somewhere? uh, obviously somebody screwed up big time.

In the midst of this ugliness, yes it gets worse, bad fifties doowop music playing, a couple of TV's and very loud children crying. As I find a seat in one of the wire mesh benches I am assaulted by a family throwing all their belongings into my personal space. I look up and smile wryly. "I hate this place". I pick up my book and try to pretend that I am in the pretty wood lodge, with nice classical music playing, "screeeech, uh yeah right," just then a horrible 50's tune (which under different circumstances I might enjoy)starts to play. God help me! OK, I try again not to be distracted by the nastiness around me, but it really is hard with aliens wearing heavy moon boots walking around. I just don't get it, the whole love being cold, flying uncontrollably about without breaks. I even gazed out the window at one point to see if some clarity about why people love this would dawn on me. Nope, nada. Not one single thing, even though I've heard from friends that something about that swooshing thing down a dangerous slope is exhilarating. The last time I took Jon skiing with friends, I was traumatized just by the process of renting the skis, putting on the skis and watching some kid lose control and almost crash right through the doors of the lodge. Uhhhh, it give me chills. It just looks like more trouble than its worth.

Ahhh, its nice to be home in front of my computer blogging while the boys are back playing their video games. Tomorrow I will try to come up with something else that will tear them away from the videos.........maybe bowling. Do they still let people chain smoke in those places? Yuk.