Weird Friggin' Weather

Instead of trying to sprain my way up the driveway, I chose the less direct route, cutting across the lawn, causing loud crunches in the ice-covered snow as I stepped. The concrete stoop was a disaster waiting to happen; shimmering ominously in the faint glow of the street light.

The freezing rain had been falling most of the day and night. I had wisely opted to take the train in to work. I knew the walk back home last night would be hairy! I got off the train and took a picture of the coaches speeding past me, the ice-plastered electrified lines overhead, buzzing and flashing bright green in the dark night.

There was no approaching sheet-ice sidewalks or cutting across mirror-like glistening parking lots. I walked home in the middle of the street, following the path where tires had crushed ice into far less treacherous slush. Tree branches looked like spider webs.

Like a reckless mountaineer departing base camp as his support team sleeps, I prepared for the climb to the front door, scoffing at safety cords, spiked boots and hand chisels. Gingerly, making no sudden moves or weight shifts, I placed one foot on the first step and then the other. I did the same for each step, always pausing to see whether my footing was solid enough to attempt another step upward. I finally, carefully, dug the keys out of my pocket and stepped inside at 1:20 this morning.

Before climbing into bed, I promptly left two notes, one on the kitchen counter and a post-it on the front door, warning Susan the front steps were dangerous. She left early this morning and when I got up hours later, I saw that she had spread salt before attempting the descent.

Clever girl.