Well, it was bound to happen eventually, this thing where water would fall out of the sky on a day so cold it would freeze, so here you go: ice. It looked pretty this morning, but it made for a slooow walk home from brunch as I measured each step to avoid slipping and bouncing off the sidewalk like the newbie I am. I spent the day at home writing up a syllabus and watching terrible movies, but I’ve got a dinner date in Mt. Vernon, so it’s time to get on the bike. Because it’s new to me it felt treacherous as I white-knuckled my way down the hill, taking the whole lane to avoid even the faint touch of visible ice. But what about the ice you can’t see, Kate? I got off and walked the last block to the restaurant. I figure, though, that it’ll be like anything else new–I’ll do it for awhile, get more comfortable, fall, realize falling won’t kill me, and then I will just be somebody who rides in wintertime. Or not. Maybe I’ll take the bus.