When we first returned on February fifth, on time and just before midnight, it was hard to avoid feeling a sense of malice in the cold. Cold is a thief. The narrowness in our comfort zone was never clearer. We picked up our carry-ons. Alex had offered to pick us up and drive us home and not fall asleep at the wheel but spend the night in Canandaigua. Steve was our fall-back. Our baggage was delivered home the following day. It was a typical return home.