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Funny Stories About Ice: What Goes Up Must Come Down

Funny Stories About Ice: What Goes Up Must Come Down

Now this may really surprise everyone but I am not as graceful as I might appear! It's hard to imagine that I am not the epitome of poetry in motion but as I have confessed many times, in my case, it is more like poultry in motion.

At this lovely time of year, when here in Oregon, we are in fact embracing our first subzero temperatures, it seems only fitting that I should recount for you where my ice queen adventures all started. 

I must also state emphatically that the ice queen still reigneth and I am still holder of the crown for most graceful dismounts on ice.  It is particularly wonderful to know that after all these years, I have not lost my 'touch' for comedic escapades on ice.  I could have my own show if only I could get someone to support me - in more ways than one.

Come along with me and lend me an ear (or perhaps an earmuff) while I regale you with my funny stories about ice and what goes up must come down....eventually.

How My Funny Stories About Ice Started

The first time I decided to 'perform' on ice was back in the early 1980s when we had first moved to Washington state. Sure, I'd been in Detroit for 2 winters and bleak affairs these things were. If that wasn't fun enough, we moved to Chicago where I spent another 5 dreary winters with temperatures toasting out at a balmy 80 below zero with the wind chill. You would think I would have grown accustomed to snow and ice.

But there you would be wrong, because as accustomed as I was to snow and ice, for some reason, my missions always seemed to supersede practicality. As my luck would have it, the first year we lived in the Seattle/Tacoma area, it was one of record cold (who would guess this would happen to me?). At the time, we only had the little tin can tuna car, the Chevy Monza that I had driven my precious children across country in. I literally had to fill the trunk with bags of cement to keep from becoming a car sled on the roads!

Whereas Chicago and Detroit were flat, barren lands of ice and frozen tundra, the Pacific Northwest has many interesting features to enhance your winter experience such as hills, as in very steep hills, houses with terraced stairs, great steep driveways - to name just a few of the perks for winter.

At any rate, I was late for a very important date which in fact was work. I had seen my 2 youngest kids off and only had our oldest son Jonathan to drop off somewhere on my way to work. On dressing that morning, I really hadn't had a chance to think much about the weather and as so often happens with me, I was focused on the tasks at hand. Get dressed, get Jon, get out the door and on my way. Dressed in slacks, a sweater, my ever-present white coat and clogs, I headed out.

That said, Jon ran out the door ahead of me and in my defense, no alarms went off. I checked to make sure the lights were off, door locked, and stepped out onto the porch. That's basically ALL I remember. The next thing I knew, I was airborne. I have to stop here to point out that our front steps, though not cement as in the picture, were terraced wooden steps - to the tune of 3 sets, the final step ending on a block of cement.

Okay - so I'm up - I have taken flight and I don't remember flapping! I do remember seeing my arm catch in the railing (how bloody convenient THAT was) and I remember thinking 'hmm...that really can't be that good' as my shoulder went rrrr...iiiii.....pppppp for good measure. As I was flying down the 3 levels, it occurred to me that this was NOT going to be a good landing and I was not going to be able to 'stick' this dismount.

Sure enough, I landed with a resounding 'plop, splat and ummmph' - not on the wooden stairs as I had hoped. Oh no...Mrs. Athletic Wonder had to overshoot and go for the cement. I landed on my left side and for an instant I wondered if I was dead. Or if my hip was seriously broken in 5 pieces.

I'm really not sure if I made a sound as I gracefully flew off the porch and down the stairs, or if my son heard the 9.0 on the Richter scale because he generally wasn't all that tuned into what happened to his mom! He was only about 8 at the time and as I laid there trying to assess the damage, he shot out from around the edge of the house from the carport and screamed 'oh my GOD, mom - you fell.'

No sh*t, Sherlock! Before I could say something I would regret later, all I could think of was 'what if the neighbors saw me floundering like a flying whale off the porch?' Without much thought, I just immediately jumped up like a jack-in-the-box and said very calmly, although through gritted teeth 'Heck no - I was just messing around' I dragged my leg behind me and held my arm close to my body because I couldn't get it to move.

I literally crawled in behind the wheel of the car and then almost screamed in pain as I pushed in the clutch to drive off into the sunset. Conveniently, I worked at a hospital and when I came in dragging my left leg and supporting my arm as if it were broken, they x-rayed me free of charge. Nothing was broken but I had a bruise running from my hip to my knee for weeks. By the way, that does NOT look good in a bathing suit at the gym!

My Next Funny Story About Ice

Actually, I'm not as dumb as I pretend. If you figure from the 1980s until 2009, I didn't have any more run-ins with ice, someone must have put her thinking cap on....or taken her clogs off! I learned from that day forward never to wear clogs unless I'm in Holland but in particular, do not ever wear them on an icy, cold day unless you literally want to go down.

Fast forward to last year. As is typical here in Central Oregon, since we are high mountain desert climate, we get our share of ice and snow. Unfortunately always more ice than snow much to my disappointment.

One lovely December day, we had just taken our son to the bus station as he was taking the bus back to the Seattle area. I was sad, I was blue, and I coincidentally was not feeling that great. To cheer me up, Bob decided we'd say goodbye to Pat and then head over to the store, buy ourselves a nice bottle of wine and then have a nice relaxing evening at home. Sounded like just the thing to get me back to square one.