I found my camera at last.
I said I had packed it in something really soft. I was wrong: I had wrapped it in something really soft, but it was in a box of hard things with really sharp corners. Where was my brain?
Now that I have found it, there's all that pretty ice to take pictures of, but it's cold and slippery out there, and I don't want to fall down and break the camera, or me, either.
This was my exercise yesterday. It took me fifteen minutes to pry up chunks of ice one shovel blade wide to make a path to the car. (I did not have a heart attack.)
Which I have not cleaned off yet, because I have no reason to go anywhere.
Maybe tomorrow. Or not.