For many of us, the windstorm that lingered from Tuesday into Wednesday brought to mind 2012 and Superstorm Sandy, which paralyzed the Northeast. Oct. 28 of that year had been still and warm enough that two of the Rattray children had gone swimming at the copper-gold end of the day.

Many times over the last 13 years, since my daughter arrived home at the age of 1, I’ve wanted to astonish everyone with my own list of all the tasks and errands I accomplish daily. I can hardly believe, myself, that I wake up by 6:30, and not infrequently by 5:45 a.m., in order to begin the varied and often esoteric chores of momming, from goldfish-feeding to trumpet-renting.

“Us,” the PBS mini-series that ran on “Masterpiece” — every married couple should see it.

Yesterday, in the throes of a flushed feeling of unease, “a full-body tingling” that seems to occur monthly whose cause has yet to be determined by the cardiologists — that it doesn’t happen every night when the NewsHour’s on can be counted a blessing — I answered “not very well” when asked, casually, how I was feeling.