No more white Christmas dreams around here, thank you very much. Last week we had an ice storm blow through town (Texas rarely gets snow, but we get ice almost every year). I couldn’t get out in my wheelchair until it thawed. Here’s my wife walking Dawg in the middle of the sleet-in.
Well, technically, I could get out, but I couldn’t get back. My sidewalk slopes downhill from my front door, and not even my two electric motors would pull my fat ass up that hill when it’s a solid sheet of ice! So, eventually, I had to dig out the long leash in order to walk Dawg from the safety of my front stoop and that made my wife happy. (Fortunately the leash was
hidden stored in our junk room, not in the long-term storage like I thought.)
Although some of the grass, streets, and sidewalks had cleared by the time this picture was taken, the walkway from my home to the street was still too slick for me to attempt. In fact, today I was finally able to get out and about safely. My wife’s already informed me that we’re keeping the long leash handy, however. Sigh — I took out her Frankenshoe and sat it beside the leash in the “dog stuff” box. Maybe she’ll get the hint. Maybe.