A Day for Long Underwear

A snowy entry into Boston

Not living in Boston full-time has but scant rewards. There is, however, one luxury that I get to embrace, and that’s the ability to pick and choose when I visit. When a snowstorm or stretch of rainy weather is forecast, I can stay home and wait until the clouds clear. Sometimes, though, when there are sales or special events or a bracelet that needs to be dropped off at Tiffany’s, one has to make the trip.

It’s been a number of years since I was in town to see this much snow. The last time was the weekend where Suzie, Chris, and I spent a night in Boston before driving up to Provincetown for a winter reading at the Fine Arts Work Center. The days prior had left most of Western Massachusetts covered in two feet of snow, and there was literally nowhere left for it to go. The streets were piled high, parked cars would remain buried for weeks, and walking all but required snowshoes.

This weekend saw a similar thick blanket of snow, which is why I waited an extra day for things to clear up a bit before driving in. It was a good decision, though I had no problems, and in fact the city was rather resplendent in its snow-covered mantle.

The wind was a bit cutting, but nothing a pair of scarves wrapped tightly around my neck and ears couldn’t handle. The sidewalks were all neatly plowed, and I managed to grab a few shots while hurrying between stores. It was, after all, a shopping trip to capitalize on the post-holiday slump sales (and given that I got 50% off everything I purchased, I managed to stay within budget).

One thing I previously laughed at but currently embrace is the use of long-underwear. I used to think they were for fools and skiers and the occasional isolated unabomber, but I am now a huge fan (pics of proof to be posted in due time). They are not as itchy as I remember them being, so perhaps in the last decade and a half they have made major improvements.

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