In reality, I don’t think this winter has been that terrible. Compared to Chicago, this is a breeze. In New York we don’t have to wear our coats to the dinner table or have family bed! Living high on the hog over here. (The previous owners of our Chicago home were going through a bitter divorce and legend has it that the Mister tampered with the heating to the wife’s bedroom. Hence, with its big bay windows, our room got pretty frigid. In high school, out of necessity, Anna and I would share a bed on especially cold nights and bickered over whose turn it was to hug the other person to sleep for warmth. How perfectly quaint. Real Laura Ingalls Wilder stuff back then.)
Anyways, even when New York City gets grey and piled up with dirty snow banks, ya got to get out and stretch the legs. The Williamsburg Bridge will always be-no matter the weather-the perfect place for a jaunt.
And then the next weekend…
1. Half way across the bridge we ran into one of my patient’s parents who were walking home from the hospital. They didn’t recognize me at first without my green scrubs, but I noticed them right away cause I’m always scanning the crowd, looking at all the interesting characters here. New York City can feel like an awfully small island given how often you run into people you know.
2. Someone has written “I will miss you” (pictured on the beam above) all over the Lower East Side and it’s the cutest thing. It’s like a little treasure hunt to spot them all over the hood.
Ok, the one below from last summer wasn’t so difficult to find.
At the end of the bridge we hopped on the F train at the Delancey stop. I’ve become awfully picky and now only want to live in places with nice subway stops. If you’re gonna spend twenty minutes a day waiting underground you might as well do it in a charming environment. While most are damp, dripping with unidentifiable liquids and peeling large flecks of paint, the mosaics at Delancey are quite cheerful.
In other news… Happy Valentines Day! This was the Valentines Day on which I fractured my first, (hopefully last), bone. While walking speedily through the Lower East Side with Katie that night, I slipped on an ice patch and land right on my elbow. I hopped right back up, but when I could no longer bend or straighten my elbow, I went in for some x-rays at the hospital where I work. Indeed, my radial head was fractured. The doctor told me to ice it and gave me a sling, but I explained that I had to go to work that evening and a one armed nurse does not inspire confidence in patients. He shrugged and agreed. I actually fared pretty well at work. Everyone helped when I had to lift patients and an older kid got a kick out of helping me get ice bags for my swollen elbow. I guess I can do this job single handedly, but am now extra grateful for the gift of two functioning elbows.
It’s been a week since the fall and I almost have my full range of motion back. Hence, I have concluded that I have superior bone healing abilities. Mostly, I just like bragging with ridiculous statements. Our cousin Patrick would proclaim that he was a superior taster and walker. So I’m gonna go ahead and claim “superior bone healer.”
Spotted in the East Village. Some people are finally letting go of Christmas.
And finally, the token Lola picture, because we are obsessed with the little dear.