I meant to Sunday, but we were too busy having fun in our own backyard (a backyard that extends to include a forest at the end of our cul de sac). I meant to Monday, but after a one-hour bout of physical therapy (hip flexor) in the morning and another hour at the gym with the personal trainer (who was intent on dispensing copious amounts of holiday joy), I was too pooped. So this morning, knowing the snow wasn’t likely to last much longer, the 16-year-old and I packed up the skinny skis and headed to Umstead State Park, the Triangle’s Nordic center every decade or so when there’s sufficient snow.