Survival in the land of ice and snow

I live at the top of a pretty little hill that was one of the things that attracted me to this apartment, but today I have been trapped at home all day by the frozen tundra that covers it.

I made one valiant effort to escape after they cleared the front walk down to the mailboxes. Unfortunately, the parking lot where my car is has nothing to do with that walkway.

Stepping outside I found myself on slick, uneven ice with almost no snow covering at all, but I was able to make my way to the grass and walk as far as the corner of the building. There I had two choices, step onto the even slicker and more uneven river rocks, or go back up on the sidewalk.

I chose the later and it was a mistake. Although I doubt the other would have been any better. Once on the sidewalk I found myself sliding wildly downhill and grabbed the drainpipe. Thank goodness I didn't pull it off the wall.

Finally getting to the parking lot, about thirty feet from my car, I realized that stepping out onto that ice rink could be fatal for my old bones, so I decided to go back inside, which was easier to think about than do.

I could not get back up on the sidewalk the way I came and actually thought about knocking on my neighbor's window and asking if they had some way of hauling me up, but I couldn't reach their window.

Finally, creeping inch by inch down the driveway, using whatever snow cover there was for traction, I was able to get to the grass. That put me in good stead until I was back by my own patio again and had to brave the frozen tundra once more.

I called our apartment managers and they sent someone over around four to chop up some of the ice and spread ice melt between the apartment doors and the parking lot. I hope it is still working tomorrow because I have an eleven o'clock appointment.  I could take a taxi to a doctor appointment, but I can't very well take my Honda Fit to get its airbag replaced without driving the car.

We've had snow. We've had ice. Now winter is welcome to leave. I'm beginning to feel like Nanook of the North.