I remember wading through deep bushes as a kid, after after a thorough blanket of ice had laden the trees making them sag to the ground. It always sounded like I was being chased by about 20 of those cartoon skeletons. Clickety- clack, clickety-clack. That thought came to me yesterday as I investigated the scene near our garden. As the wind blew, it echoed... Clickety- clack, clickety-clack. We got some wintry mix, but for the most part the rain stayed south of us as did the temperatures that were suppose to reach 45° F. As a kid, mornings after a snowfall were always fun-filled, but an ice storm with all the sheer glass cover always brought the sleds out. And that always led to memorable times. Streaking on the ice paths all the way across Gullivers. Oh, but I hated the trudge back up that hill.