Yay! Snow! Yay!

The text awaiting me this morning from the Manfriend was an ecstatic proclamation that the school he teaches at had called a Snow Day. No two words in the English language can create such joy and mirth as "Snow Day" to children and apparently, those who educate them. My company had issued no such decree so I sloshed my way to work like everyone else unlucky enough to have to clock in.

Around noon, two new words brought out my giddy inner child via a message from HR. The email's subject line said "Emergency Closing". That's right, the agency was officially closing at 2pm and ordering everyone out so we could safely make it home. I practically skipped in my wellies to the subway.

I always love seeing the neighborhood blanketed in snow. To me, there's nothing more beautiful than brownstones on a winter day. Here's a few shots I took on Second Place:

The second brownstone in from the Carroll Street station exit on Second Place, has really unique foliage in the front yard. I've no idea what these plants are, but they always seem more suited for somewhere in Florida than in Carroll Gardens. I love this shot of them all nestled in snow.

I'm also a big fan of the above yard a few doors down from the Florida Brownstone. The owners of this brownstone keep the yard pristine. Immaculate even. The grass is manicured to perfection and greener than any competitor on the block, even in the winter. I've always admired the cherubic fountain pictured above, even more so in this weather.

I'm also a HUGE fan of this hot mess at the end of the block. Clearly for very different reasons. It's difficult to detect the sheer amount of crap the insane owners wedge into their 6x9 plot. Since moving to the hood nine years ago, I'm always delighted to see what new flamingos or gnomes await. Come Christmastime, not only does a three foot tall Santa in his sled and eight reindeer join the fray, but so do Tin Soldiers, candy canes and, I shit you not, a full on manger scene complete with Joseph, Mary and baby Jesus.

Last, but not least, we come to the Social Club on my corner. I've been fascinated with this club and the grandpas who are members (Well, except for you Frankie, you dirty old man!). It's always beautiful to me, no matter the weather or season.

I'm now going out to play in the snow while it's still around. I suggest you do the same.

One Outta Three Ain't Bad

The last few times Accuweather forcast snow, well, let's just say their inaccuracy was off the radar. Imagine my surprise during lunch when I stepped out to an actual snowfall. No worries, I thought, as I carefully and quickly manuevered to and fro my favorite lunch spot in my new suede knee-high Calvin Klein wedge-heeled boots. The snow squall was bound to pass soon, like the freak bursts The Manfriend and I encountered on Sunday passing over the Brooklyn Bridge.

The sidewalks greeting me in the West Village when I left work told a different story. Not wanting to ruin my new CKs, I searched under my desk for a replacement footwear option. Shoes accumulate under my desk like mad. I always keep a pair of flip flops handy for the forgotten mani/peddie lunch appointment and since 9/11, there's always some sort of a comfortable shoe I can walk the few miles home in if need be. Since I've made it through the crunch of Planning Season (much like accountants have late night after late night during tax season, media professionals have a similar hell that lasts a couple of months), I've been cleaning up my office and get back to some sense of order by purging wayward magazines, forgotton holiday rep gifts and the sea of shoes collecting dust under the desk. Just the night before, in fact, I brought home my gym shoes and wellies.

Unfortuntately, my only remaining options to commute home in were a pair of red leather Marc Jacobs boots, beforementioned flipflops or black leather four inch stacked wood wedge heels. I opted for the heels and slowly (oh so slowly!) made my way through the unshoveled sidewalks of the West Village to the F train and to my apartment in Carroll Gardens.

There were only a handful of storefronts in either the Village or Brooklyn that saw fit to shovel their sidewalks. When I passed 3rd Place (which by the way was quite beautiful - it's amazing how a layering of snow can completely transform the city's look) I knew I was home free.

Third Place, Brooklyn

And the shoes? They'll soon dry. According to Accuweather, we're in for a warm up. Which means the shoes will likely return to their comrades under my desk within days.