Arse over kettle
It snowed and snowed and snowed this weekend, turning it into a real winter.  (Bob and the kids <a href="http://vickyth.wordpress.com/2006/02/13/proof-positive/">had a great time in the snow</a> with friends on Sunday; I'd rather be on the hot-chocolate squad, personally.)  But last night and today it's four degrees and raining, which is the worst thing that could happen after so much snow.  The roads are covered either with compacted crusty snow, mucky salty slush, or deep water.  My officemates and I trundled down to Auntie Crae's for coffee this morning, as is our wont, and on the way back I tripped, or slipped, or something, and ended up flat on my front on the sidewalk on a layer of mucky-salty-slush on top of a layer of compacted-crusty-snow.  OUCH.  I fortunately had zipped up my coat, but the front of my coat and my pants were soaked.  No mortal injury, past a skinned hand and a couple broken nails (serves me right for not cutting them) and a bruised knee.  (The bad knee, of COURSE.)  My hands, ungloved, were actually numb for a while from the abrasion and the dip in sub-zero water.  Can I smirk once again about being close enough to home to be able to scoot home and change?  I was amazed to get slightly more sympathy than ribbing from my cow-orkers.  Must be my newbie status.