At long last the jet stream has finally gone our way.
(According to this map we're as cold as Wisconsin this morning and my joy can hardly be measured.)
After months of high pressure systems and sweltering temperatures, it is not too much to say that I think the dip in the jet stream looks like the finger of God and the reprieve feels a lot like grace.
I opened all the doors and windows in my house this morning to give it a proper welcome.
My girls pulled out their scarves for the winter walk to the bus stop and Ethan and I climbed back into his bed for a Scooby Doo retrospective.
I took Ethan to the doctor yesterday who told me that his "influenza" is actually just strep throat and started him on a course of antibiotics. This is probably the first time in my life I've seen strep throat as delightfully good news.
Strep throat as grace.
Strep throat as tender mercy.
I know how to count my blessings, and this morning jet streams and bacterial infections count.