Slip-sliding away
This winter has been the worst fall of my life.
Let me explain. I can never remember the amount of ice that we have had this winter. At least part of the cause this year was that storm a few weeks ago that started as more snow on top of the already too much snow on the ground.
Then it turned to rain. Then it sleeted for a while, then it froze harder than a IRS auditors heart.
Then it repeated the cycle a few more times until all the world or at least the world around NEPA turned into a giant, well polished luge run.
These conditions on the roads make body shop owners dream of leasing business jets and flying to private islands that they own outright in the Caribbean.
I parked in the early morning hours after this storm. Stopped, put it in park and put the emergency brake on. My car kept going until it had completely swapped ends. All this in slow motion and thankfully all by myself in an empty parking lot.
But the real challenge when the world becomes slicker than a Zamboni ® treated rink is walking. I haven’t been on ice skates since gas cost less per gallon than the national debt but I can take on any Olympic caliber competition now. I can Axel jump, Camel spin and Death spiral with the best of them and this is all on the way to the front door at work from my car, which is still moving on its accord.
The number of falls I have taken in the past few weeks rivals a Three Stooges film fest. I have hit the deck so many times and so hard that my bruises have bruises.
But the ultimate indignity came the other day. It warmed up. A little. So the long suffering wife and I went out with pickaxes, shovels, jackhammers and a small quantity of TNT to chop the ice out of our driveway.
This took approximately an eternity. It was not as much fun as couch sitting, my favorite sport. But we did it and I looked forward to not falling on my now bruised and sore muscles. The NEXT morning I stepped from my front door onto a patch of black ice that had formed overnight and ended up looking like part of dolphin show. You know the move where the big fish goes straight up in the air fifteen feet and lands sideways with a big splash?
Except there was no splash. Just the sounds of bones crunching and a wash of expletives that should have but did not melt the damn ice. 30 days till spring. We can make it.
-30-
Go back to today’s Blog post for 1/18/11
