It's 3:00 p.m. I'm lying on our bed in Algonquin, listening to the fire. D. went with the others for a hike across the lake. The Point is more exquisite than I remember. Nothing has changed, but it seems to have become more perfect.

After the ice picnic: venison and chicken sausage, duck, ribs, steak, caribou, pheasant, tuna, salmon, chili, salads, and on and on and on, I settled into the lean-to with my book. The lean-to is cushioned, covered with rugs, piled with blankets and lined with huge pillows. From this spot at the edge of the point, I can see the hikers slowly fade into the brilliant whiteness of the snow covered lake. I sip hot cocoa and watch them grow smaller.

This morning I took a pregnancy test and it was positive. Eight hours later it hasn't sunk in. I'm amazed that we could have gotten pregnant during our first week of "trying," and that it happened on Valentine's Day and that we discovered it here, in such beauty.

After today, life will become unrecognizable...and so will I.