TO FALL OR NOT TO FALL IS NOT AN ICY DAY DECISION

X!!;%??* x? ?/&$#++. That's January language for when you fall down some icy steps as I managed to do. I say managed because it is hard to fall when you are holding on tightly to a hand rail and have rubber-soled shoes on and know you should be careful. The X factor here was that the hand rail was ice-coated too and didn't afford a smidgen of grip.

I had gone, at dawn, to dust snow off the goldfinch feeder, which didn't even require going down steps at all since my feeder is on a swinging bracket and all I have to do is stand on the carpeted back porch and swing it in, dust it or fill it, then swing it out again. But with early morning vim and vigor and vigorous swiping aided by a frisky little wind the kind that seems to lower the temperature the snow-dusting cloth sailed out onto the ground. I should have left it there until a balmier day, but no. My rare perfectionist mood was on me that morning and a rag out in the yard isn't acceptable, so I attempted to retrieve it.

The steps didn't look bad at all, two of the five being under the overhand of the roof. I think it was the x!?/**@@ ice-coated handrail that was at fault.

The fall was a somewhat graceful affair. I just took a hard seat on the third step, hand still skating along the rail, but due to some facet of aerodynamics, physics, or deteriorating bones and tissues, my upper body went backward and the edge of the second step whacked me across my shoulders as if it were my fault. My head sprang forward as if it were coming out of a jack-in-the-box. This stretched neck muscles, ligaments, blood vessels and skin to the utmost. Like an over-stretched rubber band, they may never go back in place! What a wonderful thought. I've always had such a short, unbecoming neck and now that it is filling up with wrinkles and nicky-pickys maybe they'll all be stretched out too, along with an elongated neck. I decided that as soon as I got back in the house I'd go look in the mirror to see if I might resemble Queen Nefertiti.

How the birds did flurry! Goldfinch, cardinals, blue jays, mockingbirds, chickadees, starlings. They took roosts up in the overhanging oak and on the light and telephone wires and stared at me, shocked and cock-eyed. They'd seem me sit on those steps hundreds of times before. They'd heard me talk before too. Maybe not so terse. I think those rascals were horrified that the one who filled their feeders might not be able to at the rate to which they had become accustomed.

The friendly black dog and his "Pinocchio Cricket," the little poodle, were about half way across the yard. They stopped, respectfully, heads up and inquiringly, but when I eventually got up, they loped and pitty-padded on to wherever they were going.

It was so pretty outside with snow clinging to every little limb, leaf and blade, I might have stayed there longer since I was a little numbified, but I knew the neighbors would be getting up soon and see me sitting there on the steps. They often see me there in the summer, but at 23 degrees they may have jammed the 911 number.

This is a long time to keep going on about a fall, but you see, I do it so rarely I want to stretch it out like Nefertiti's neck.

When I eventually went back inside, I took off my shoes, useless old things! I put on my blue fuzzies. They're fuzzy inside and out. Took off my old droopy sweat suit and put on my satin robe I've been saving for some hopefully remote, maybe never time when I'll have to go to the hospital. I used Aunt Minnie's antique blue and gold tea pot, which is only for show, to make a cup of Constant Comfort tea. Chose a cup from the rare set too. A doughnut was livened up in the microwave and carried on a tray along with the hot teapot and ready cup to a table by my favorite chair. I refused to turn on the TV. What would I hear but murder here, murder there, or New Hampshire. My feet went up on a hassock that had a cover on it picturing a bear home, complete with a fire in the fireplace. Baby Bear II is asleep in a cradle. Papa Bear, seated in a soft chair, is holding Baby Bear I. A pot of something good, hanging on a crane in the fireplace, is steaming. A basket of acorns is nearby and Mama Bear is bringing in something good to eat. There's a rhyme at the bottom which says:

More than walls and flowers and ceiling; Homes are made of loving feelings.

I looked around at my own braided rug, my green plants, old rocking chair, ticking clock, the rest of Aunt Minnie's blue china tea set and made up my own lines for the day:

T'will take more than ice and bruise and fall; To cast over my day a dreary pall.

REJOICE!