Winter Storm Nemo brought us a lot of snow on Friday and Saturday, once again putting the news of New York weather into the rest of the country’s living rooms. (My dad in Kanas always informs me of the next disaster.)  Since Huck would be happiest living inside a snow house full-time, we soon bundled up and began exploring our beautiful Christmas card-like neighborhood.  The highlight was our time at Fort Tryon Park overlooking the Hudson River where we risked our lives (and gloves) sledding down the hill into tree trunks, stone walls and fellow sledders.  There is nothing like sledding on a freezing cold day to make one aware that one is almost 43 years old.  ”The old mare, she ain’t what she used to be,” Troy and I like to say about our middle-aged bodies. After all that activity mine felt exactly how my ultra marathoner brother in-law must feel.  Huck, however, is unstoppable in the snow, until we stop him and make him come home for warm beverages and Phineas & Ferb, which to me is the best part of winter weather.  The coming home and warming up part.

And since no family outing is complete without an insightful child zinger, here’s yesterday’s: While helping Huck with his long johns and shirt and jeans and snow pants and snow gloves and snow boots and socks and hat and scarf and coat, all with their own set of specific rules that always causes a parental overheating induced bad mood, I began huffing and puffing and exclaimed my shock at how our friends we were meeting had THREE children to get ready for the cold.  To which Huck replied: “Yes, THREE children to yell at.”  My friends concurred that this was, indeed, truth.