Arriving home late from a Christmas Party, I drove around the circle. I often do that...especially at Christmas enjoying the Christmas lights, checking to see how many folks are at Rachael's Coffee Shop...were there enough folks to show the movies at the two small theatres...or check the temperature. Actually I think I was sorry for the temperature check...it was one degree.
One degree. I drove around the circle, came home to my driveway and fumbled for my housekey (before getting out of the car.) As I was unlocking the back door, I couldn't help but notice the icicles..some more than three feet long..smooth, sharp, pointy, clear, twisted. I just stood and watched (for a very short time).
There is something magical about icicles. I remember breaking them off and licking them as a kid. I like to tell a story about a great, great Uncle who was killed by an icicle on his way out to the barn to do the milking (I think I made that one up)!
But no matter what the stories, three foot long icicles on a porch roof means One Degree. Now where did I put that electric blanket????
Lou Ann Homan is a writer, teacher, and storyteller who lives in Angola, Indiana. She is available for writing seminars, storytelling, and speaking engagements. She can be contacted at firstname.lastname@example.org. You can read more at www.louannhoman.com