Whose Woods Are These? Mine.

We arrived in the Catskills Friday evening after a slow start on the West Side Drive. To make things even more exciting, a car slammed into us from behind and then fled the scene. No one was hurt, and the bumper did its job. Don't worry, I put a nasty curse on his family.

The house was of course freezing but we set that to rights with turning on the heat and cranking out some Stones tunes. I'm deep into the Keith Richards memoir. Bed well-toasted, I jumped in and slept like a baby. It was minus 4 degrees the next morning, but I wanted to get some fresh air and some bacon. We breakfasted on waffles and said bacon when Harry dragged himself out of bed.

The weekend was spent eating, drinking and partying. Mariel showed up mid-afternoon, an early birthday surprise. I drank too much, but didn't have a hangover the next day. Maybe it was the rich chocolate cake we had for dessert.

Sunday afternoon we drove Harry to Vassar, dropped Marty at the train and Mariel and I drove back to J-ville. After lunching in Callicoon the next day, Mariel took off for Providence and I settled in for a long winter's nap.

The snow and ice started late that evening and continued throughout the day. Everything was closed. Where do we think we are, in Virginia? I stayed in all day, going out only to walk wonder dog.

It's still snowing but sheer boredom opened up the schools, the library and most everything else around here. I'll be leaving after lunch. With luck it will be a quick and easy drive. My stay here has been most relaxing, and I'm ready to face my 57th birthday on Sunday.