That is my winning entry for the world’s worst license plate tag line (when I first arrived in Texas, Oklahoma’s license plates said “Oklahoma is OK” – which is still a strong contender in my opinion).

Jo and I never know what to get the kids for their birthdays. By the time I start thinking about it the night before it is too late to do anything even on Amazon. But this year Jo got the ball rolling early and Vivian scored a ski vacation in Utah.

Vivian’s school gives them a 5-day weekend in early February immediately after their term exams and Evan’s school does no such thing. So Jo bought Vivian and me flights and found us accommodation at Deer Valley, Utah. It was a surprise gift. Vivian squealed with joy, packed quickly the night before, and I picked her up from school right after her last exams and we drove to the airport.

Deer Valley is the country club of skiing. We didn’t know that. You get dropped off and picked up right at the lift. Hundreds of happy green jacketed hosts help you with any questions about the slopes. The lodges are posh – with huge fires crackling along merrily. Every lane in every lift that whisk you to the top of groomed slopes have little real wood boxes containing tissues – for your nose between runs. And no snowboarders here!

We needed all the tissue that first day while Vivian found her feet (she tumbled 8 times). By the last day I was hopelessly chasing way behind her.

The weather was glorious the first couple of days. Sunny deep blue skies and the snow wasn’t bad. We scoped out the mountain and found our favorite sequence of runs and the nicest dining with the best fireplaces (the small dining hall at Empire Valley lodge). The last day it snowed pretty hard. And we loved it.

We mixed just the right amount of socializing into our après- skiing. One night we met Sharath’s nephew and his family for dinner at the very nice Caffé Molise in SLC. Siddu was a young unmarried junior doctor at the Apollo Hospital in Jubilee Hills and he dropped by my mother’s room to say hello the last time I saw him. That was more than 20 years ago. The next night we trekked across the valley to Stephanie’s and had a great evening catching up with Aunt Dorothy and the crew. For our last evening Vivian and I went to Kuchu Shabu, a happening shabu-shabu place for her “birthday dinner” (in quotes because her birthday wasn’t for another two weeks) and she splurged on the Japanese wagyu.

In between skiing (Vivian rises late when she can) I got my work and zoom calls done and it only cost me a few hours of sleep. And far too quickly we were back at the airport getting on our flight back to Austin.

Returning to where we started: Vivian remarked that the snow on the last day was like butter. Hmm – the buttah is bettah in Utah.