I think I can safely say I've never before seen as much snow as fell in New York over the weekend.
At present the cars in the street have to be dug out of the drifts, and the city's infrastructure has been groaning under the task of getting itself ready for the first day of the working week. I'd say it's been a limited success - there are some streets which have yet to be ploughed (ours is one of them but we're in a backwater of Queens).
Krissa and I enjoyed a lazy weekend, where the only time we left the house on Saturday was for a brief foray into the elements, and a quick roll around in the drifts (not a sexual roll, more of a deliberately falling over-type "roll"), and on Sunday we didn't leave the house once, but watched films, read, napped, ate clementines and played cards...oh, and ate goodness only knows how much home-cooked food.
Making our first pie was only the beginning. I breached my first focaccia and my first risotto too over the weekend, and Krissa wheeled out some masterful cupcakes, a few improvised (and perhaps a little rusty) muffins (but *I* like them), and a chocolate cake with no flour which is jaw-droppingly good and is probably not long for this world.
There is snow on top of the air-conditioning unit in the office window. The sun off it is blindingly bright.
I think I shall go out for a walk.
Well.
As close as I can get to one, anyway.
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