I Like to Fall Down in the Snow

After dinner, I headed up to the room, where Lisa had spent most of the day. The high winds and heavy snow -- winds that I understand shut down the ski mountain -- had left her unenthusiastic about going outside. She had some snacks during the day, but (a) she hadn't had dinner and (b) I'd had a big dinner and needed a walk, and (c) the winds had died down, so it wasn't so bad as it had been. So we got kitted up and went outside for a walk. We walked across to California and down to Raley's, picked up some milk and juice, and then walked back up to Nevada to Bill's Casino, which includes a Subway sandwich shop, and got Lisa a sandwich and a mini-pizza. (I'm not trying to deprive Lisa; that's all she wanted.)

It was snowing medium-hard out there, but as long as we stayed out of the wind, it wasn't too uncomfortable. I felt much better getting a walk after all of today's enforced inactivity.

[The subject line of this message was the tag line of an ad campaign for a Tahoe-area ski resort some years ago. I did not, however, actually fall down in the snow. I merely slipped a few times in it.]