My mother flew up from South Carolina today, arriving around the same time that I retrieved my daughter from her job as a counselor up on Lake George, so for this weekend, I’ve got all three generations of the women I love the most here at the Chateau. (I guess for completeness’ sake, I should have my sister here as well, but she’s not available this weekend). After exchanging the necessary pleasantries upon our arrival from various destinations, the three generations of ladies I love settled down on the couch to watch a house selling show on HGTV, then “Hollywood’s Ten Hottest Hunks,” and now “The Dog Whisperer.” Testosterone is not allowed in the den right now. (Click on the thumbnail to see a live action photo). I will lurk here in my office until it is safe to emerge. Probably at breakfast time tomorrow. Which I will cook, just because. (I should note that the blue afghan that my mother is using was knitted by my father’s mother, so there’s actually four generations of women I love represented in that picture in one form or another).