Is discovering that the two boxes of books that have been AWOL for weeks have been traced and found. I can now re-read again my signed copy of Vikram Seth's "A Suitable Boy", though only if I make myself go the post office and haul 100 lbs of books up four flights of stairs.

Is reading a Richard Wilbur's poem about snow covered apple trees as I eat lunch, and look over at patches of unmelted whiteness on the far ground left over from yesterday's snow.