My ungodly fear of sinkholes has been usurped. How could
anything terrify me more than getting swallowed up by Middle Earth,
you ask? Look up. They are everywhere:
No matter where I go, no matter how hard I try to avoid them,
these damn icicles are gunning for me. This one has been taunting
me for days:
I would like to think that when one of these frozen daggers
finally lands on my noggin, there will be people around to help.
Yet with temperatures at Arctic levels, the only folks I have to
rely on are these guys:
And they've got their own problems.
I am desperate for a season without peril, neurosis, or Charlie
Brown buried up to his neck in snow.
Yeah, I'm looking at you, spring.
Marianne is mother of three sons and the wife of a southside Irish fireman. She has learned that sometimes you're just too dumb to know what makes you happy. She blogs regularly at We Band of Mothers (webandofmothers.com) and curses with even greater frequency. Her material is written for the imperfect, the imprudent, and the impatient mothers who know that all this stuff is really very funny if you just give it a minute.
See more of Marianne's stories here.
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