I had pegged my number of "falling down on some wintry surface" incidents at one per winter season. I fell once last winter on a slippery sidewalk. It hurt. A couple of weeks ago I fell again on an icy sidewalk that was covered with a dusting of snow, thus obscuring the ice underneath. The puppy was with me on her evening walk at the time and though she wasn't really to blame, she certainly didn't help the situation. Luckily since she was along I was able to foist blame upon her for the fall.
For some reason I thought it to be an intractable truth that I would only fall once a winter, and I'd already gotten mine out of the way. I discovered this morning that this was not true.
Perhaps it was because I thought I had gotten my allegedly annual winter fall over with that I acted this morning with less than an abundance of caution. As I was taking the recycling bin (a large trash can) out of the back mudroom this morning I took a header down the back steps into Tito's priceless collection of artisan crafted yellow snow. The cause was a complete lack of attention and due care, the price was a scraped up hand, shin and a rolled ankle (my good ankle unfortunately). Bummer.
The moral of the story is that you can't let your guard down around Old Man Winter, especially here in North Dakota where he looms large. Not for one second. Just when you think you've got him figured out, BAMMM!!!, he steps up and reminds you that he's still in charge and you should always respect his authority.
2 comments:
and it seems that Old Man Winter has a sense of humor. Falling in pee-snow, that's cold.
It hurts your pride more than anything. And somehow I know that Tito knows what's happened and is silently laughing at me.
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