We're in Mexico, and we're swimming. Well, I'm swimming. Bao doesn't swim. As far as Bao is concerned, water that's not in a water dish is renegade water and he wants no part of it. But if I want to swim in my water dish (and I'm sure that's how he sees it) he can see no alernative to letting me do so, mostly because I'm bigger than he is.

One of the things Bao does like to do when we're here is to gather up all of his toys into a pile, and then go to sleep on top of them. He doesn't do this at home. Only here.

It's hard to believe that last week, we were huddled in front of the fire. Mind you, it's not exactly tropical here. It's cool, and clouding over. But the pool is heated, and swimming in that deliciously warm water with the cold air above you is sort of like eating a hot fudge sundae, but not as fattening. Also, they've taken to serving a complimentary continental breakfast on Saturday and Sunday, in the lobby. That is fattening.

We've been walking on the beach, too.

Okay, true confessions. I'm in the process of writing a book on what's good about America. It's going slowly. Not because there isn't lots that's good about America, but because it's easier to write about bad things than it is to write about good things. But watch this space.