Waiting For the Break of Day

We were to have a Bomb Cyclone today in New York City.  Something the weatherman called, not unusual although again they fail to report 'where' its common, like thousands of miles away from the Eastern Seaboard.  It was to be like a hurricane in winter but not because there is no such thing, they said.  Some meteorologists seemed tickled pink, almost giddy to report what they felt was an exciting weather story while others tried to squash our fun by saying there was nothing new going on here, just fancy words for the same old thing.

All I knew was I was off that day and could watch it all unfold, one of my absolute favorite nerdy pleasures. But I woke up with a headache that felt like the air pressure that fell was dropped right on top of my head.  In fact I learned later that was the defining difference of this system, the extreme and quick drop in air pressure.

With my head in a vice I still managed to make my grandma's chicken soup with rustic cut potatoes, cabbage and carrots.

I still get a huge thrill when the mayor holds briefings to close schools during winter storms, especially while the snow is hitting right outside your window.  I love the silence and rustling commotion of the mic while getting the different heads to speak of timelines and delays, interrupted broadcasts and scrambling news reporters.  I just adore being told by a government official to stay inside my house.  90% of the time, that would be my plan anyway but now it's official and void of any guilt or feelings of loserdom.

                           Fresh Market on Fulton Street 

Weather is such a brilliant reminder of how we're just tiny little powerless animals walking around on the planet no matter what shield of importance we may have wrongly wrapped around ourselves.