.bodytext {float: left; } .floatimg-left-hort { float:left; margin-top:10px; margin-right: 10px; width:300px; clear:left;} .floatimg-left-caption-hort { float:left; margin-bottom:10px; width:300px; margin-right:10px; clear:left;} .floatimg-left-vert { float:left; margin-top:10px; margin-right:15px; width:200px;} .floatimg-left-caption-vert { float:left; margin-right:10px; margin-bottom:10px; font-size: 10px; width:200px;} .floatimg-right-hort { float:right; margin-top:10px; margin-left:10px; margin-bottom:10px; width: 300px;} .floatimg-right-caption-hort { float:left; margin-right:10px; margin-bottom:10px; width: 300px; font-size: 10px; } .floatimg-right-vert { float:right; margin-top:10px; margin-left:10px; margin-bottom:10px; width: 200px;} .floatimg-right-caption-vert { float:left; margin-right:10px; margin-bottom:10px; width: 200px; font-size: 10px; } .floatimgright-sidebar { float:right; margin-top:10px; margin-left:10px; margin-bottom:10px; width: 200px; border-top-style: double; border-top-color: black; border-bottom-style: double; border-bottom-color: black;} .floatimgright-sidebar p { line-height: 115%; text-indent: 10px; } .floatimgright-sidebar h4 { font-variant:small-caps; } .pullquote { float:right; margin-top:10px; margin-left:10px; margin-bottom:10px; width: 150px; background: url(http://www.dmbusinessdaily.com/DAILY/editorial/extras/closequote.gif) no-repeat bottom right !important ; line-height: 150%; font-size: 125%; border-top: 1px solid; border-bottom: 1px solid;} .floatvidleft { float:left; margin-bottom:10px; width:325px; margin-right:10px; clear:left;} .floatvidright { float:right; margin-bottom:10px; width:325px; margin-right:10px; clear:left;} Ice is the worst. Maybe not worse than nuclear warfare or pepper spray inside your evening gown, but the worst thing meteorologically speaking.

It has the power to snap power lines, snap wrist bones and eventually snap your patience right in two. Snow you can plow; floodwater you can pump. What are you going to do with a road, driveway and sidewalk full of ice? Besides sitting quietly and waiting for April, I mean.

When December arrived, our driveway out at the farm was an uncomplicated collection of gravel. Now it’s a layer cake of gravel topped by ice topped by more gravel (we called in a dump truck) topped by snow topped by ice topped by snow. All that’s missing is a plague of frozen locusts.

We have a sign at the end of the driveway saying “Merry Christmas.” What do you think – too sarcastic?

We went out in the pitch dark one evening and attached the scraper blade to the tractor. Haven’t used it. I’m not convinced that the bottom layer can be pried loose, so removing the snow from the ice would be like trading a cold for the flu.

And then there’s the rest of the landscape, sealed under a no-stick surface that would make Teflon’s inventor envious. I hope the squirrels picked up enough walnuts to get them through the winter, because it’s too late to go shopping now.

The winter’s first ice attack yanked branches off the trees, contributing to the kind of bleak, stark landscape that makes vodka so popular in Finland. So one day I ventured out to pick up some sticks and carry them to the burning pile. This chore takes me into an area where the cattle hang out. (They belong to my teenage daughter. I don’t even collect state quarters, myself.)

I’m shuffling along, thinking about ice, when I realize the cattle are headed in my direction. In the summer, when the world is all tall grass, they can’t be bothered. In the winter, when they’re hungry, they don’t just meander toward the nearest human; they scamper.

In other words, eight 1,000-pound units were headed toward me at top speed. On God’s own hockey rink.

You’re probably hoping this ends with a trip to the emergency room. Sorry to disappoint you. Cattle, with their exclusive four-hoof drive, seem to be surprisingly adept at maneuvering on ice.

If only cars and people were.

I was safe and warm in the house one night, thinking about ice, when suddenly we went on red alert. It was so slick that my wife couldn’t get her van into the garage, and now she was helpless on the driveway, tires spinning.

It was fun to watch, and I considered getting a lawn chair, but I couldn’t help thinking that she expected me to do something.

So I rushed to the rescue and immediately went sprawling like Chevy Chase used to do before he saved enough money to stop.

Lesson learned. I made my way gingerly out to the shed where we keep our stores of junk, useless items, outdated stuff and a couple of bags of sand. Rather than give in to Mother Nature, I could at least create a little traction in front of the garage.

It turns out you fall even harder when you’re carrying 50 pounds of sand. I’ve never been tackled by Brian Urlacher, but at least now I have the general idea.

The next day we learned that a neighbor also fell on the ice, and so did my sister-in-law. With a little statistical extrapolation, we can be certain that hundreds or thousands of Iowans hit the ground at roughly the same time, which makes you wish it wasn’t so complicated to become an orthopedic surgeon.

But not everybody fell; many were busy sliding into ditches in their cars.

And besides all that, there’s an ice dam on our roof that’s closing in on glacier status.

I know, you have to settle into the right attitude and enjoy winter, or at least make the best of it. In St. Paul they have an ice festival, and up at the Apostle Islands in Lake Superior, they use the ice as a road.

Me, I get queasy just ordering iced tea.