It snowed. Late Friday night and early Saturday morning, it snowed in New York. The official measurements came in at around 11.4 inches at Central Park, far short of the historic storm accumulations on Long Island, in Connecticut, and up into New England. The city was spared the worst. My dog died. I spent most of the day and evening of the storm at home with my elderly dog. She was sick and on antibiotics. I was looking forward to walking with her in the deep snow the next day. But sometime in the middle of the night, she died. The following morning, I found her slumped on a pile of clothes. It was a great shock, and I didn't know what to do. Fortunately, New York came slowly back to life on Saturday morning, even if my dog did not. The vet's office opened at 9 am for their usual hours, and the staff members were a great comfort. For the rest of the day, I didn't feel like getting out at all. "A day of sorrow is longer than a month of joy." - Chinese p
A strolling guide to New York City by Teri Tynes