It struck me when I got the mail tonight that the huge mound of snow which almost covered my mailbox is almost gone. Just like that. It’s funny because I had gotten so used to tiptoeing carefully out to get the mail. Every time the snow plows would go by, they’d push the snow up higher and higher in front of the box so the post wasn’t even visible. It was like my little black mailbox was sitting at the top of its own snow hill. And the built-up ice on the ground in front was precarious. Whenever we’d get a bit of a thaw, there would be a pool of water at the end of my drive, which would then freeze back over. I’d have to shuffle across the ice, step carefully to the mailbox and then onto another step I had created in the snow bank just so I could reach across the three feet of snow far enough to grab the mail without falling. Or if it was just too darn cold to even walk out there, I’d drive my car up as close as I could, which was still about 3 feet away. My car would sit at an angle while I opened the door, rolled down the window and hung out through the hole just to reach out far enough to open the door on the mailbox. I’m sure my neighbors think I’m a little crazy. But today, I was able to walk right up and get the mail, with only a small patch of snow and ice to contend with. I was thankful for that.
I was convinced all winter that I was going to slip one day and hurt myself. I have a tendency to trip over my own feet. And when I fall, I do so fabulously. It’s the stuff of cartoons. Once, when I lived in the country, unbeknownst to me, my entire yard became a sheet of ice. As I trudged to my car (I had no garage) I slipped, my entire body went airborne straight up in the air, and I came down on my back. My purse, my work bag, my coffee mug went flying. I lay there, stunned, coffee pouring out around my head, papers and junk scattered around me until a one of the outside cats slinked over and meowed. I chipped a bone in my elbow on that fall.
Another time, I was on my way into work. The concrete steps were covered in rubber, and because it was winter and my shoes were wet, I slipped going down the stairs when my heel hit the edge of the stair. Again, I flew up and came straight down on my back. This time I not only had my bags of junk, but I was also talking on my cell phone. Everything went flying. My cell phone landed at the bottom of the stairs and broke apart. Papers scattered. And I just sort of slid down the stairs on my back, completely winded. And hurt. I collected my items and limped to my office. I called the girlfriend I was talking to at the time to let her know why we were so rudely disconnected. She laughed, of course. But wow, you should have seen the bruises I sported about a week later.
Unfortunately, those falls were unwitnessed. Which is too bad because I’m sure they were hilarious. I wish I could have seen myself; I would have laughed. Another good fall I had did have a witness. It was inside at work when I was escorting a copy machine repair man down to the work room so I could unlock the door for him. As we rounded a corner, I stepped on the side of my high heeled shoe and twisted my ankle. I went down so hard on my hands and knees that my hands made an echoing slap against the floor. I’m laughing as I write this. The poor guy tried to pretend nothing happened. Thankfully, only my pride was hurt that time. And even more thankfully, no one from our police department witnessed it on the security camera. At least no one ever mentioned it to me.
So, I’m glad today I made it through the ice and snow without a major fall. At least so far. And if I have one coming up, I earnestly hope there are witnesses to enjoy it.