Monday, while visiting my dad in the personal care home, it had started to sleet and the ice pellets that were falling came down heavy and fast. In about one half an hour, there was about one half an inch of the ice pellets on the road and the roads were treacherous.
There are six hills that have curves at the bottom. When it is slippery, I couldn't keep the speed up for fear I would slide off the road. That makes the hill harder to climb. Without the extra inertia behind my car, reaching the top of those hills without losing traction and the wheels slipping is much more difficult. I made it back home, but the drive was scary.
My daughter and I spent some time yesterday with a few people from the writing group. They are fun people to be able to visit and to be able to share ideas and to work on my own.
I spent much of the day when we returned doing some research into the background for the next part of the novel I am attempting to write.
One of the prompts that our coordinator suggested to write about was "if you had to choose a different birth date, what would you choose?" I wrote the following.

What date would I choose if I had to choose another date for my birthday?
It certainly wouldn't be any date that would be near a holiday.
It wouldn't be January or February. Those months are too cold.
What month would I select that would feel correct to be another year old?
July or August, not. They are too hot, but picnics and swimming are fine.
April's too rainy. May, kind of ungainly. I'm glad those months are not mine.
October's too scary. November's winter, just barely. They're not for me.
June is for weddings. December's for sleddings and making Christmas merry.
September's in the running but March is stunning, one I already own.
March causes me strife, losing my mother and wife, where have those years flown.
March is good enough, though the weather's still rough and I can change any second.
What can I say? March is my birthday and of that month I've grown quite fond.