Sometimes I hate our house. I hate our stupid broken-down garage and the shed with the broken pane of glass in the window. Sometimes all I want is tens of thousands of dollars to arrive (an inheritance from a relative we never knew is my preferred fantasy) so we could hire a crew to just fix everything the way I want.
The money hasn't arrived. But the snow has. A lot right before Christmas, a little bit more nearly every day since. The kind of weather you'd order for the season, if you could. Like living in a snow globe. The snow works its own magic, turning the shed into a little enchanted hideaway.
Amazing what a lot of snow and a little optimism can do.