Ice Ice Baby
Image: leozc/Pixabay The trees in the yard are frosted like vanilla-coconut cupcakes. Pointy icicles hang from the north side of the house. Sometimes I break one off and give it to the dog, like a stick. Today those spiky rods are rock solid, and I wonder, for no particular reason, if they really have been used as weapons. Murder and melt. Evidence gone. Maybe I’ve been watching too many British crime dramas. In Colorado, snow falls on the roof, then melts, then refreezes. This is called ice damming. There is also a thing called ice damning . I made it up after getting stuck near the top of the driveway last week. It was a great introduction to our home for my high school bestie who’d just flown in for the weekend. I stopped the car before reaching the top to aim my remote at the garage door, not realizing there was a layer of ice under a dusting of snow. I swear it hadn’t been there when I left for the airport earlier. When I couldn’t get traction, I beg...