“Not much snow,” I said to Hepcat yesterday morning when I first woke up. The night before it sounded like the blizzard of the century was expected. The school chancellor had already decided to close city schools, and newscasters were having a field day with the BIG story.
Looking out the window, I did see teeny, tiny specks of snow coming down everywhere. There was snow on the streets, the sidewalks, the parked cars but not much. It wasn’t like, um, a blizzard.
Maybe the forecasters were wrong, I thought. How embarrassing.
Still, it was a snow day and who’s going to complain about that? Everyone got to sleep late. It was like a weekend day in the middle of the week.
I contemplated cancelling my session at the gym with Claire. “Kids home. Can’t come. ” I considered texting her. But I thought better of it. I didn’t really feel like being cooped up indoors and I was sorely in need of an endorphin boost.
When I got outside, rainy, annoying snow wet pelted my face. As I walked down 7th Avenue, the wind sent snow pellets in my direction and by the time I got to Crunch I was soaking wet, cold, and thoroughly convinced that this was a snow storm to be reckoned with.
My workout with Claire was exhilarating. We watched through the big Crunch window on Flatbush Avenue as the storm gathered speed. It felt cozy and fun to be indoors and my energy level was high as Claire led me through a rigorous exercise regime. Phew.
Walking home, I stopped at the Food Coop, which wasn’t busy at all. Members were outside shoveling snow; inside there were more workers than shoppers. I gathered up some storm provisions—frozen pizza, ravioli, tortelinni, butter, bagels, asparagus, strawberries, aged Gouda cheese (only the bare necessities)—quickly and spent barely any time waiting for a cashier. In and out of the Coop in 15 minutes. That’s a novelty.
Only on a snow day.
At 2:55 PM, I passed an empty PS 321 on Seventh Avenue and 2nd Street. The snow was coming down with great force and there was much in the way of accumulation. City officials were most definitely right to cancel school as pick-up and commuting would have been very difficult.
Good call on the part of the Mayor and the DOE.
On Third Street, the kids were out throwing snowballs, running into snow banks, having fun in the snow. The apartment was empty. OSFO was at a friend’s house after getting a bloody nose from being pelted with a snowball (by a friend) in the backyard at PS 321. She was, according to she, “fine.”
Hepcat was out in Coney Island to follow up on last year’s photographs of Coney Island in the snow.
Then I remembered therapy and thought nothing of jumping back out into the snow for a little psychological clarification. My walk up to 11th Street was peaceful as much of Fifth Avenue was shoveled and clear.
Hepcat came back from his Coney Island expedition wet and excited. “Nathan’s was open,” he told me. “But the only people on the boardwalk were tourists and photographers.” The new photographs were vastly different from last years. Barren, white moonscapes, the Wonder Wheel and the Parachute Jump are barely visible in the snowy haze. He took a great many shots in a short period of time because he was afraid that his camera would stop working. There was so much snow in the lens he couldn’t really take pictures after a while.
I looked over his shoulder as he perused the pictures on his computer. I was happy to be indoors observing pictures of the silver grey ocean on snowy day.
It was 7PM and I was already in my pajamas. Cozy, warm and inside for the duration.