licking the flagpole - and other Wisconsin wonders
In Wisconsin last weekend something happened which is - I believe - one of the most annoying and not immediately life threatening weather phenomenon on earth: freezing rain.
This was no ordinary slush storm. It rained, then everything froze solid (creating a nice thick layer of ice) and then it warmed up just enough to rain again but not thaw the ice crust. Rain+cold+more rain= more slippery than a greased weasel in jello.
I pride myself on being somewhat hardy in winter weather, but when I fell down 3 #&!*ing times on my way to the mailbox, I knew that something was horribly, horribly wrong. Since I blame everything up to and including acts of God on the parking enforcement in Madison, I sat in the middle of an icy sidewalk in cold, soaked blue jeans and shook my fist impotently in the direction of the nearest "2 hour parking" sign. With a sigh I attempted to reach my car, only to find that I could not actually get up enough traction to get over the slight convexity of the roadway.
Of course this was New Year’s Day. Of course every place that delivers food was closed (DAMN YOU GUMBYS!), so of course the boyfriend and I, clinging to trees, rocks, and fences had to make our way to the nearest Shell station in order to buy an overpriced frozen pizza for dinner.
All of this bitterness was dissolved the moment we made it to Harvey street with its sloping curves and gently pitched sidewalks.
We skated all the way home hand in hand.
This was no ordinary slush storm. It rained, then everything froze solid (creating a nice thick layer of ice) and then it warmed up just enough to rain again but not thaw the ice crust. Rain+cold+more rain= more slippery than a greased weasel in jello.
I pride myself on being somewhat hardy in winter weather, but when I fell down 3 #&!*ing times on my way to the mailbox, I knew that something was horribly, horribly wrong. Since I blame everything up to and including acts of God on the parking enforcement in Madison, I sat in the middle of an icy sidewalk in cold, soaked blue jeans and shook my fist impotently in the direction of the nearest "2 hour parking" sign. With a sigh I attempted to reach my car, only to find that I could not actually get up enough traction to get over the slight convexity of the roadway.
Of course this was New Year’s Day. Of course every place that delivers food was closed (DAMN YOU GUMBYS!), so of course the boyfriend and I, clinging to trees, rocks, and fences had to make our way to the nearest Shell station in order to buy an overpriced frozen pizza for dinner.
All of this bitterness was dissolved the moment we made it to Harvey street with its sloping curves and gently pitched sidewalks.
We skated all the way home hand in hand.
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