cold burn
i hate ice.
i know, i know - it keeps drinks cold, food fresh in the cooler. it soothes burns. it keeps the oceans from flooding us (sort of). it provides decor for many weddings. it made much of the progress of our civilization possible. yada yada yada.
in reality, modern refrigeration makes ice unnecessary for food and drink purposes. so it should be banned, because it just wears me out. it's dangerous, slippery, always sneaking around, trying to trip me up. when there's ice on the ground, i get exhausted from the anxiety it causes me, from the tension i hold while i walk across it.
when i was nine, my first winter in iowa, my mother sent me to take something to my dad at his office, which property backed up to our back yard, with an alley in between. i marched through our snowy backyard, across the ploughed alley, and met my waterloo. the back door of the church was at the top of an incline - not a big incline, mind you, nothing you could ski down. the incline was no more than three feet long, at perhaps a forty degree angle, but it was covered with a smooth sheet of ice. i walked up it, and promptly fell down. i tried again, and again. i tried climbing it on my hands and knees, but i couldn't get any traction. in retrospect, it was probably my first panic attack, but such a label hardly existed in 1978, at least not in my world, and so (in the vernacular available to me then) i became hysterical. fortunately, my mother was watching from the kitchen window, and she called my father, who came to rescue me. or rather, he came to stand in the door and tell me i in fact could walk up that ice for a good five minutes before finally extending his long arm for me to grab so he could pull me up the ice slide.
ever since, i have had an uneasy relationship with ice. when i lived in nashville, i actually let one of my employees live with me, rent-free, because she would drive me to and from work every day. the office was less than a mile from my home, but it involved several steep hills and valleys, and when the roads iced over, i would be exhausted by the time i got to work when i drove myself. so we found a mutually beneficial solution.
the big trend now for retirees to settle in north carolina, eastern tennessee, northern georgia - places with far more moderate winters than the north but not nearly as much heat as the traditional retirement targets of florida and arizona - makes no sense to me. these moderate climates are the most treacherous: they're cold enough to get snow, but not cold enough to keep it frozen, so it melts as it hits the ground, then freezes into ice overnight. what retiree would want such a thing?
at least in cleveland, when it snows, it stays snowy. there may be ice covering the streets, but there's a good, crunchy layer of snow on top for traction. and the snow stays soft enough for us to be able to shovel our sidewalks; just try shoveling a sheet of ice.
my vote is for ice to stay where it belongs - at either pole of the planet - and leave us in the middle alone. but since the climate will not bow to my bidding, and since i have had enough of living in florida and texas, with their eleven months of heat per year, i choose to live in cleveland, where the cold means business, unlike those wussy, in-between climates.
now if i can just get the parking lot attendants at work to get the salt spread before i get to the office, my world will be a better place.
*****
in a few hours i leave for new york and leave behind my computer access for a couple of days, so to all of my blogland friends, i wish a happy thanksgiving. you all are what i'm thankful for this year.
i know, i know - it keeps drinks cold, food fresh in the cooler. it soothes burns. it keeps the oceans from flooding us (sort of). it provides decor for many weddings. it made much of the progress of our civilization possible. yada yada yada.
in reality, modern refrigeration makes ice unnecessary for food and drink purposes. so it should be banned, because it just wears me out. it's dangerous, slippery, always sneaking around, trying to trip me up. when there's ice on the ground, i get exhausted from the anxiety it causes me, from the tension i hold while i walk across it.
when i was nine, my first winter in iowa, my mother sent me to take something to my dad at his office, which property backed up to our back yard, with an alley in between. i marched through our snowy backyard, across the ploughed alley, and met my waterloo. the back door of the church was at the top of an incline - not a big incline, mind you, nothing you could ski down. the incline was no more than three feet long, at perhaps a forty degree angle, but it was covered with a smooth sheet of ice. i walked up it, and promptly fell down. i tried again, and again. i tried climbing it on my hands and knees, but i couldn't get any traction. in retrospect, it was probably my first panic attack, but such a label hardly existed in 1978, at least not in my world, and so (in the vernacular available to me then) i became hysterical. fortunately, my mother was watching from the kitchen window, and she called my father, who came to rescue me. or rather, he came to stand in the door and tell me i in fact could walk up that ice for a good five minutes before finally extending his long arm for me to grab so he could pull me up the ice slide.
ever since, i have had an uneasy relationship with ice. when i lived in nashville, i actually let one of my employees live with me, rent-free, because she would drive me to and from work every day. the office was less than a mile from my home, but it involved several steep hills and valleys, and when the roads iced over, i would be exhausted by the time i got to work when i drove myself. so we found a mutually beneficial solution.
the big trend now for retirees to settle in north carolina, eastern tennessee, northern georgia - places with far more moderate winters than the north but not nearly as much heat as the traditional retirement targets of florida and arizona - makes no sense to me. these moderate climates are the most treacherous: they're cold enough to get snow, but not cold enough to keep it frozen, so it melts as it hits the ground, then freezes into ice overnight. what retiree would want such a thing?
at least in cleveland, when it snows, it stays snowy. there may be ice covering the streets, but there's a good, crunchy layer of snow on top for traction. and the snow stays soft enough for us to be able to shovel our sidewalks; just try shoveling a sheet of ice.
my vote is for ice to stay where it belongs - at either pole of the planet - and leave us in the middle alone. but since the climate will not bow to my bidding, and since i have had enough of living in florida and texas, with their eleven months of heat per year, i choose to live in cleveland, where the cold means business, unlike those wussy, in-between climates.
now if i can just get the parking lot attendants at work to get the salt spread before i get to the office, my world will be a better place.
*****
in a few hours i leave for new york and leave behind my computer access for a couple of days, so to all of my blogland friends, i wish a happy thanksgiving. you all are what i'm thankful for this year.
posted by laura at 9:14 AM
3 Comments:
have a wonderful trip, darlin! there is no ice here at the moment, so the world is a tiny bit less scary for that one tiny fact.
happy thanksgiving y'all!
My uncle lives in Nashville and he's told me about the freezing rain and icing that they get down there. Seems like a big gip to me - all the yuckiness of winter but none of the prettiness. I'll take a northern (New England) winter over that, I'd have to agree.
Take care, Laura. I hope your Thanksgiving is nice, and I hope that you've got shoulders to lean on when you're in NY.
Have a good time with your mom, and a great trip. You are one of my favorite new friends this year!
Post a Comment
<< Home