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.

oh hooray! bravo for the intrepid USPS, and go to the post office with a wagon in tow.