Stop me if you've ... actually, don't stop me if you've heard this before.
It's an old story that went something like this:
I may have commented in a December a couple of years ago that, after having unseasonably warm weather in our neck of the woods, winter arrived. Oh, did it ever!
It snowed, and snowed, and snowed. And then we had freezing rain and sleet on top of that.
It reminded me of the time we had similar weather conditions ... I stepped out the back door ... checked on the steps before starting down ... they seemed fine ... one step ... and DOWN I went. Ka-BOOM!
I went crawling back into the house with a lump on my head.
The next time I was carrying salt ... to put on the driveway.
Out the back door ... a careful look ... one cautious step ... and down I went ... Those icy steps had outsmarted me AGAIN!
Nothing broken, thank goodness, except the container of salt I was carrying.
But that reminded me of this particular poem, "Wintertime Waltz." After all, where would we be, if we couldn't have a little laugh at our own mishaps and minor misfortunes?
I have no
sense of rhythm,
no grace, no pace,
no with-it moves
from some great
But on ice? Hey,
I'm a dancing fool.
(originally published in Capper's)
Today's word: dancing