So, we’ve got a 1/2 an inch of ice everywhere. Now, to my northern friends, I realize that a tiny amount of ice is hardly room for concern, but you see…I live in the Dallas metroplex, where people are often confused by water coming from the sky.
Driving on the highway would be like playing high speed bumper cars, only with armed and frustrated riders. The traffic report on the radio this morning went on and on and on…mostly listing the dozens of accidents because people here have no idea how to drive on ice, or how to avoid driving on ice.
Looking out my window reveals that none, nada, not a single one of my neighbors has tried braving the gentle slope of our driveways, because frankly, we’ve all tried it before, and realize that all we’re going to accomplish is the destruction of each other’s yard displays as we slowly ice-capade our SUVs in a two-ton metallic ballet.
One neighbor was out there behind her car with a table salt shaker, I guess she was lightly seasoning her tires. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that she was insane. Me, I’m going to have some coffee, read some Beowulf to fortify my soul, and then go see if any of the ducks need to be chipped out of the pond.