Word: skied
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...could adopt this salutory way of thinking, you could save your money for a ski trip, you could stop giving bath oil to your maiden Aunt Sophie, you could smoke hash on the street, but noooooo! You have to go out and buy Christmas gifts for everyone and his cousin, including all those relatives you hardly even recognize, let alone well enough so that you can buy then something intelligent and semi-thoughtful...
...Rustler, the Snow Pine--the Snow Pine was ours, cheapest of them all and at the end of the line. To get up to the road, we walked up a set of tunnel--like stairs. When you start, you can barely see the light. Below the lodges is the ski basin, rising from the basin is the ski area and behind the road, in back of the lodges, is the cliff. The ski area and the cliff of snow face each other, as parallel as any downhiller would like his Hexcels...
...American ways have rubbed off on her. She tried skiing last year in Colorado and says she loved it. "I want to ski again if I just get time," she says. Tintti has also picked up on the recent racquetball craze and plays tennis on the weekends--when her schedule permits...
...afternoon, Swiss time. Conservative Columnist William Buckley knows just what he will be doing: starting his third novel. The author of Saving the Queen and Stained Glass is going to Rougemont, Switzerland, and has set aside five weeks to churn out another thriller. Après-ski and pre-harpsichord practice, Buckley, 52, plans to produce 1,500 words a day. Why the regimen? "The 20th century notion that you should stare at the ceiling until the afflatus [inspiration] hits you is self-indulgent," harrumphs Buckley, who does admit to slight concern about having no plot...
...routines, and then to the formation of a small dance troupe, the carefully unserious name for the new enterprise was at hand. Calling their troupe Pilobolus was, it seems now, an ironical reminder to themselves not to expect too much. Perhaps it was also a wry announcement to the ski racers and white-water canoeists of the Hanover, N.H., campus that, dancers or not, they considered themselves more jocks than aesthetes...