Poppy just loves the snow - like water to her only better because she can eat, drink and kind of swim in it. Despite a grumpy trudge down to the park this morning, I couldn't help laughing at her sheer doggy joy.
I'm struggling to keep awake now thanks to the all-night scraping of over-zealous Mayor Bloomberg's neurotic snow-ploughs. So paranoid after his snow-crisis-holiday drubbing, the Mayor sent the ploughs out before the snow had barely settled. All night long the sound of metal scraping on concrete rang out through the canyons of NYC. This morning, residents texted each other blearily, some only able to see their phone screens with the aid of spectacles, thanks to their heavy metal-racked night.
Weather like this brings apartment living up to the top of my 'Good Things about NYC' list, though. Our bedroom is on the corner of the building, 11 floors up, yet the walls and windows are tough enough not to even rattle with the wind. Downstairs, the doormen and supers had already scraped the pavement and sprinkled salt when I took Poppy out. Thanks to all the other doorstaff on the block I've just made it to Starbucks and back in my Uggs with barely a splash. Oh it's a busy, busy life! xxxx
PS: Irony there, someone give me a job, PLEASE.
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