February 12, 2008
The trip back from Kingston Sunday was a harbinger of Hoboken weather to come. I enjoyed The Fantasticks with my family -- even though I was sitting next to Andy, the ten-year-old, who squirmed mercilessly during the love songs, on Saturday. Afterwards, we ate in a very popular, very trendy Japanese place in the East Village and drove together to Kingston.
I had expected a little more feedback about the play on the 2-hour ride, but when that didn't happen my daughter and I had a nice time for a gabfest and the boys mostly slept.
Sunday the snowflakes fell in huge chunks, huge for snowflakes, that is; and I feared a difficult bus ride home. It turned out I had nothing to worry about as the weather cleared and the temperature was in the 40's, melting the accumulated snow and providing a nice, early-spring atmosphere. I hung around with the family until after lunch, leaving on the 3 P.M. bus.
The trip back should have been a warning to me. We drove through what I would have called a blizzard if I had not just enjoyed early spring. (I know February isn't spring, but indulge me here.) The snowflakes were so thick they obscured the view. It was almost like fog, it was so difficult to see. Trees frosted in white appeared and disappeared at the windows like ghosts, and the bus was slowed. Then by the time we reached the New Jersey shopping malls the weather was clear again. When I got off the bus all I had to do was walk across the Port Authority Terminal and take an escalator to the Hoboken bus, and I was home in 15 minutes.
The two-block walk from bus stop to house was when I got my shock. It was 27° in Hoboken, and destined to go down to 11 before the night was over. I've spent two days shivering and will have at least one more before the weather is bearable again.
I'm going to have to give myself time to get used to this. It's winter, and I have had 19 years of winters that you hardly notice. It's not like that any more. I feel like a stranger in my own land. Just a few more weeks of this and then we'll have spring, which I remember vividly. And as often as I can.