A week ago we were preparing for the storm of the century. At least that was the prediction. Two to three FEET of snow, school was preemptively closed on Tuesday, subways shut down over night, and we were all wondering just how bad it was going to get. I even sent Nacho to the wine store in the city for more bottles since I only had white wine left at home. Who could drink that in a snow storm? I needed some full bodied reds to keep me company. I mean, what if we couldn't get out for days? The news and Facebook were flooded with messages of impending doom and, because this is New York City, recipes for great winter weather comfort food. As I later read, most of the country prepares for snow storms by taking precautions stocking up on salt for the driveways and bread and milk. New York City residents talk about all the fabulous food they are going to eat as if they were going to throw the most fabulous dinner party. Funny, but true. And so on Monday night, as the bus pulled up to deliver Elisa home in a white out, we settled in for a long night watching the skies and snow fall. The subways were closed for only the second time in a hundred years, and there was an 11 p.m. driving curfew. We were encouraged to stay home and stay warm. I can't say I minded. One quick peek from the roof and later the street and I can say for sure it was bitterly cold and the snow was drifting down. But by the time we went to bed around midnight, it didn't look like an epic snow storm was in progress. There were a few inches already but nothing like what they were predicting earlier.
Waking up to realize it hadn't in fact snowed 24-36 inches, but a paltry 10 inches at best, was a disappointment. I really wanted to believe the hype and be snowed in for days. Oh well. I suppose it was good that didn't materialize since Stacey's trip would have been scrapped. The kids ran to the window to see the snow that I had told them might come up to their waists. But no, it wasn't there. Elisa just wanted to make sure we could still go sledding and I assured her that was on the list for the day's activities. We layered up and I made hot cocoa and spiked cider for some warm nourishment. Nacho grabbed the sled and off we went towards Lou Lodati first where we bumped into some friends. A few runs down 43rd Street, and a tired Nacho hauling them back up the hill and we were ready to conquer the big hill: Doughboy Park. The good and bad thing about that hill is that it is the sledding hill in Sunnyside/Woodside. So of course it was packed with nearly every family we know in the neighborhood. And those that weren't there had either just left or were going later. Yes, it was swarming with kids and sleds and all I could see were the head injuries and stitches waiting to happen. I really don't think I'm opposed to sledding, but rather that place. It's just such a bad hill that ends in a sloping ditch up against a fence. We found a little spot to let the girls make some runs and fortunately Nacho and Joan were both able to help the kids enjoy their time. But I did get blindsided by a couple of boys as I took a photo, and I think the same duo ran into Elisa and gave her a nice scrape on the chin. Not sure exactly how that happened, but when it did, it was all over for the day. She wanted to leave. And it was almost time anyway. So we drank our hot beverages and then scooted over to Carmen's for a pizza lunch and more playing around in the backyard with Birdie and Jasper. The girls had pre-arranged a snowball fight, so this was our chance to let them have at it. Unfortunately, everyone was a little ragged at that point in the afternoon, but we gave it a good shot. Leaving around 4 p.m. to get home in time to catch a spectacular sunset was just the way to end a beautiful, stormy 48 hours. And though it wasn't the storm of the century they predicted, it was a great highlight of our winter so far.
