Do you recall the craze a few years ago to string dripping lights under the eaves at Christmastime? And the people who still do so have my utmost admiration for climbing ladders and balancing on rooftops to put them in place every December. More admiration for when they take them down a month later. No admiration at all for those who leave them up until June. And pure disdain for those who leave them up all year. But I digress. Those dripping lights are supposed to mimic icicles, creating the illusion of the exterior of a snuggly warm home in a Disney cartoon. I confess that my family joined the craze. But we could only afford the cheap strings, the ones that didn't have enough bulbs to be impressive. And they had wires that bent in crazy ways, eliminating the illusion of "dripping" icicles. Nonetheless, we joined the crowd and took pleasure in our decorated house, even if it didn't look like the one in Home Alone or The Santa Clause.
Well, it's now almost two months past Christmas, and there is no need for strings of icicle lights. The real thing has decorated every house on the block, and they are impressive. But despite their beauty, the ice jams that they are creating on the roofs and gutters are going to be a problem. We're all just holding our collective breath, watching for dripping water to emerge from our ceilings. I considered knocking them down until my friend Jane cautioned me that she tried to knock hers down, only to have one land on her head.
Which reminded me that icicles are the perfect murder weapon. Once the deed is done, all evidence of a weapon is gone. Unfortunately (or fortunately), I cannot think of anyone I want to murder. Except maybe certain politicians. No, not really. I will limit my victims to stinkbugs.
But right now, and until that first drip from the ceiling lands on my head, I am in love with the icicles that are cascading off my roof. One of them looks to be about four feet tall. Some have forked bottoms. All are different, like snowflakes, and together they have created a glassine fortress that surrounds my home.
Yes, I need to fall in love with them before they're gone. And that thought should not apply only to icicles, should it?
Beautiful, and I hope they don't cause problems. We haven't removed the snow from the sunroof this year, and I hope it doesn't collapse tomorrow. A different kind of "falling,"and not at all on purpose...
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