Early this morning I took the dog out to do her thing.  It was pouring rain and the sound of the drops striking the roof, the gutters and the pavement sounded like a southern chorus of bugs and frogs.  The air was warm and humid and just for an instant I was transported back to an Alabama night, sitting out in the humid darkness on the deck with Mom and Dad, listening to the night noises. 

The pull of the dog on her leash, eager to get her business done, brought me right back to now; standing in a Michigan downpour early on a  January morning.  Katie and I were both  ready to start our day.