IT’S RAINING.

Like the day Anna was born—New Year’s Eve, and way too warm for that time of year. What should havebeen snow become a torrential downpour. Ski slopes had to close for Christmas, because all their runs gotwashed out. Driving to the hospital, with Sara in labor beside me, I could barely see through the windshield.

There were no stars that night, what with all the rai............