Talk about a slippery slope indeed.
The skies did an hourly version of dropping snow flakes and then melting them with a batch of sunshine. Rather weird to see dark grey ominous clouds shimmying all day with the blue cloudless sky. One thing was for certain though, the roads were iced over and treacherous to boot.
When I glanced out the front window and saw a mirroring glaze reflect off the road, any silly ideas of going for a walk vanished. Not such a bad state of affairs as it meant a day spent at home, doing as little as possible...eat, read and watch TV.
Except that I needed to give a message to another neighbour down the road. About two hundred meters away, yet it could have been ten miles away. Nothing urgent but I wanted to pass the message along.
" Schatzi, I'm just quickly going to drop of this message at the ...."
" Whatever you do, don't walk on the road. Stick to the verge and be careful. "Ah, rather kind of him although he didn't offer to take the message himself...
Off I skittered, which is the only word to describe the finding of ice free patches on the road and after a meter or so, took up Bob's words of advice.
Well, as nice and gripping the verge was, it was peppered with heaps of dog poo at regular intervals. On this stretch of a few hundred meters, at least 8 turds were in my way.
Dear dog owners, the verge of the road doesn't constitute rural pastures. The business needs to be picked up when it happens...or am I being finicky?
Somehow it is no wonder that another neighbour down the road, whose verge is usually dressed in brown heaps, is extremely irate and even considering taking revenge...Ah, who said that life in a small village is boring?