Last week, we had the perfect weather conditions to create ice; snow, rain, freezing temperatures and warming temperatures equal ice. Ugh.
Wednesday morning I walked to work like I was an old, old person. On the bridge I held on to the side catching myself from falling at least three times. We strangers were compiled to talk to each other warning of icy spots ahead and giving encouragement. It took me twice as long to cross the bridge.
When I was young (very young; 7, 8, 11) I would have skated down the bridge reveling in the ice. After all, it is downhill – it would have taken seconds instead of minutes. This was before I was constantly told that I had weak ankles. By the time I turned thirteen I was spraining my ankle (usually the right) every year until I was in my early twenties. I could walk across a perfectly straight road and sprain my ankle.
Now, the older I get, the more developed becomes my fear of falling. I’ve never broken a bone: I don’t want to start now.
Someone needs to invent a way to keep the sidewalks dry or a sidewalk surface that won’t ice up. They could become multi-multi billionaires.
I hate icy winters!
Where is my snow? Fluffy, snow sculpture snow!