The kids and I went to Boulder Lake for some skiing on a bluebird Wednesday. They’re on winter break and I’m just some guy between jobs.
We sat on benches.
We climbed deer stands.
We skied across a lake.
We drank some free hot cider and used the energy in it to climb trees and make a snowman.
The snowman has a goatee and angry eyebrows.
We rested back at the car.
We saw a plane on skis after we watched Olympic hockey and had burgers at the Island Lake Inn.
It was a Wednesday. No big deal.
Nick Paumgarten, in a recent New Yorker profile of James Salter said: “Salter once told his close friend the poet and novelist William Benton that one of the functions of a writer is to create envy in the reader–envy of the life that the writer is living.” I hope you wish you had a Wednesday like that. More importantly, I’m trying to make sure the older version of me is envious. When I’m so old that I can’t remember my own name, and I look at these pictures, maybe I’ll envy my younger self.