For a little while Sunday afternoon I was almost giddy. The temperature rose to 60 degrees. The snow melted before my eyes. In fact it melted so fast the gravel road at the end of the lane started to wash out. The edge of the drainage ditch east of our property turned into a waterfall.
But by late afternoon clouds moved in and it began to rain. By evening, the temperature dropped below freezing, the rain turned to sleet and eventually to snow.. The temperature drop created a natural freeze frame in the drainage ditch waterfall. In other places, water which had melted so fast it flowed by in sheets, flash froze. Every low spot along our road, including the end of our lane, is a skating rink. If I was Hans Brinker, the world would be my oyster.
But I’m not a skater. I’m a winter-weary Iowan bound by a silly promise to not complain. So I won’t. I’ll give you a warning instead. If you send mail, don’t count on me getting it until the weather gets above freezing again, which isn’t supposed to happen this week. Our mail box, surrounded by skating ponds, is inaccessible.
On the other hand, if you know anything about ice fishing send me an email or phone. I’m thinking of building a fishing shack over the washed out section of road. Sure beats complaining.
