Yesterday was the first we toddled out of the house, after more than a week. We were holdng onto each other as we had an ice and frozen slush adventure trying to traverse from our vehicle at curbside to stores. Even strip-malls were a challenge, since many parking spaces are consumed by 15' high mounds of plowed snow; also, many drivers don't realize one has to approach corners blinded by snow mounds very cautiously so that accidents don't occur.
Also, I was asked to serve at Mass tomorrow but had to decline due to precarous driving/parking and my having the flu - I didn't want to infect anybody, nor run 'em over on the way home as they walked along the edges of the roads' snow & ice shoulders. There are no shoulders anymore - just plowed snow heaps, unending. I'm beginnig to wonder if I should hire somebody to shovel my roofs.
We've been hacking at the ice on our front steps for days, now, but to no avail. I ended up putting porch chairs on the walkway to block entry and an orange highway hazzard cone blocking the sidewalk in front. To get the mail two days ago, I gave up trying to mince and skitter to our rural mailbox and simply went down on my hands-&-knees and crawled my way there, leaping at the last minute for the post. Returning the direction I went there did not seem a wise option, so I sat my ample-butt on the driveway entrance lip and slid down to the garage door - no sled required. As I only had on one layer of sweatpants, the un-sled ride ended up being a bit of a "rush."
And all this idiocy is at age 67. Whatthell will we do at 85? We wonder.