Sometimes ghosts sneak up on you. You don't see them coming but out of nowhere they have their hands around your throat and you find yourself surprised by tears...tears you thought were long dry. But then you walk out onto your front porch and the cold air hits your face and the sight of a gentle blanket of snow covering your front yard (and its 9-foot robot guarding a Texas flag like the centurion...yeah I've been on a Dr. Who binge) stops those tears in their tracks and restores your soul. Natural, I suppose, that snow would warm a displaced Wisconsin girl's heart...but it wasn't the snow. It was the reminder of the beautiful ground beneath my feet, solid for the first time ever. I love those little reminders the universe drops on you. 

Tonight's snowbot cuddle was almost as good as the time about a year ago I was looking at something I probably shouldn't have been, full-on snot-running crying, digging in my own dirt...when a reminder popped up on my laptop right over what I'd been looking at: "take out trash". What was even more brilliant about that one is that I somehow managed to drop it on myself...from the past...or maybe the future...or both...ok REALLY gotta lay off the Dr. Who...or not. 

Needless to say, trash day has never been the same.