The ski condo was nice.  It was right across the street from Mt. Snow, so sitting in their living room, it looked like you were staring at the trail map.  You could see practically every trail.  The kids had a great time, and we don't get a chance to spend time with the owners that much in a non-crowd setting, so it was a nice two days. 

If I didn't have kids and loved skiing, I could totally see myself buying a ski house and playing poker during the evenings.  My brother has a friend who quit his job to become a professional ski bum.  I wonder if he plays online poker.  I hear vacation homes are dirt cheap now because of the economy.  But since I have kids and am not crazy about skiing, we're more likely to get something in Orlando or Vegas, assuming we ever *do* buy.  TBH, I like the idea of renting houses more - so you can go to different places all the time.

Skiing on the bad ankle wasn't a good idea, but Mrs. Fly doesn't ski and I wasn't going to have G ski by himself so I gave it a go.  I knew I was in trouble when I struggled to get the ski boot on.  I'm basically a beginner and my skills are very rudimentary, so I had even more trouble turning on the bad ankle than last year.  Fell four times in 1 hour.  Oh well.  Mercifully, G has successfully inherited the lazy-ass gene from me and he wanted to go back after an hour.  I'm basically back home in one piece (albeit with a sorer ankle), so I can't say it was too bad. 

I learned an important physics lesson.  Not "an object in motion stays in motion..." or "force = mass * gravity."  The important lesson is... what I will henceforth refer to as DoubleFly's Law of Gravity:

where x = waist size, y = hip size and g(x) = gravitational pull.  For the non-math people out there, it says that as your waist size approaches your hip size, the gravitational pull on one's pants becomes infinite.  Just another reason to lose some weight.  Sigh.

Which ironically leads us into...

WHAT'S FOR DINNER?

One of the best thing about marrying a Southern gal is occasionally, I get real comfort food like fried steak with milk gravy.  She made some cabbage pasta thing I vaguely remember eating, but when you're scarfing down fried steak with gravy, you really don't remember anything else.  It would be like chatting with Megan Fox at a bar and then asking me what her chubby friend standing next to her was like.  Who knows?  Who cares?

[Edit:  I am just joking about the chubby friend.  No hate mail please]