Me faw down go boom.
I vowed not to open the front door until Thursday, but I had to mail an important letter, so instead of going to the Post Office I went down the stairs to put it in the building outgoing mail box.
A slight dusting of snow, I thought.
But under it was ice. Went down on the third step, slid down all the rest of the way to the landing on my left hip. Took my shoes off and went the rest of the way down in my socks. They tend to have a little more "grabbance" on that stuff.
Fortunately, since I was already down three steps, I didn't fall all the way down, like you might on a slippery sidewalk. I just hit the top step with my hip and went bumpity-bumpity-bumpity down the rest of the way on that same hip. I was holding onto the railing, but my hand slipped off that, too.
When I got back upstairs in my socks, I sprinkled some kitty litter and Kosher salt down on the steps from the balcony. (I keep some of both in the car --this was from my stock quantities I keep upstairs.)
Hope that does the next person down the stairs some good, but I know what will happen: early in the morning the maintenance guy who does the snowblowing will just use a broom on the stairs, since the snow looks so light, and will just sweep my kitty litter and Kosher salt off along with the powdery snow.
I'm OK, I've had worse bumps than that, but I sure pity the next person down if they've swept the stairs and left the layer of ice on the steps.
Serves me right for violating my vow about not even opening the front door until Thursday.
Terry, 230RN
