Column by Chris Graham
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I dutifully spread the salt out. I do this every time it’s supposed to snow or ice or whatever the lady on the TV says it’s going to do.
I know how futile the whole enterprise is.
Case in point: the last ice storm. I had salt on the steps leading down to Main Street and on the sidewalk right in front of the house, and I salted the accessibility ramp leading to the sidewalk where we park our car on Church Street, and a couple of the squares on the sidewalk there.
Which was great, because the salt did what it was supposed to do. Clear as day, those areas were.
But as far as venturing beyond those areas …
I couldn’t get to my car, for example. Hadn’t thought about salting a path around the backside of the car out into the street.
And on Main Street – same problem. If somebody could park out there on that hill – remember, folks, my front door opens to the starting line for the annual Soap Box Derby, it’s mighty steep up here – they couldn’t’ get to my salt.
Which isn’t to say I won’t still be out there today salting away.
Just don’t know what good it will do.
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