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A melting and refreezing winter means ice. And ice means icicles.

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I don’t know why, but this one downspout on the edge of our garage always puts on a show.

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A few years back we measured it at four and a half feet. Of course come spring, all that melting and freezing will yield this:

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And that’s not nearly as much fun.

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I still haven’t discovered where the local emus are hiding, but from the price of those eggs I’m thinking maybe we should start raising them. $15 a pop? Yikes!

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