I lay in bed this morning, watching the pines blow, when a white dust blew across.

Snow.

And frozen water.

For some reason, “Friday night” was part of some mythical weekend that wouldn’t arrive till tonight in my head. I’m stunned that the forecast was right.

ETA: It occurs to me that I’m really happy, and there is no man in my life (or more correctly, my life). Is this a coincidence? Hmm.