Where the cold winds blow

I am sooooo over winter, I have to tell you. You may already have figured out that I'm really more of a sundress-wearing, hot-day-on-the-beach kind of girl. Which is why it makes it so difficult for me to enjoy my somewhat cozy apartment when the temperature drops send icy drafts through my big casement window.

Last week I got fed up and just started stuffing every breezy crevice with insulation. I don't really care that it looks so ghetto, it's definitely made a difference. And since I sit in front of this window to work, it had become imperative that I stop turning myself into a popsicle every night.

I put thin white air conditioner insulation (a few bucks at the hardware store) in the corners of the window glass where a previous tenant's caulking fix had actually made the glass stick out, in the places where the metal windows don't quite close tightly because they're bent after 70 years, even in the grille of the air conditioner. That in particular seemed to be a source of much of the cold air, because I can't take the unit out of the window; the sash itself has been cut away to make room for it. (A cover is another possibility, but I don't know if it would even work that well.)

There is one thing I like about winter, though. I think the snow is pretty, especially when it falls fast and thick and blankets everything in white. Here's a peek at one of the streets on my way home the other night―trees and stoops laden with snow, yellowy lanterns casting a warm glow. New York can be truly magical sometimes, can't it?