I took last week off — and while I didn’t go to Paris this year, tant pis, c’est trop cher, I must say, I highly reccommend the vacation-at-home. I slept late every day, often with both dogs snoring away in a big snuggly pile in my bed. I got some writing done, and got back on top of the memoir, which had been woefully neglected. I made a little progress on the Secret Life Change — a project that seems to be moving in a two steps forward one step back sort of fashion. And I got some real reading…