As I walked to the bus this morning, I couldn't help noticing a duck waddling across the icy surface of the nursing home pond. He was walking back and forth quacking angrily, like, "What the ... when we left, this was water, right? Yeah, I took a quick dip right before takeoff. Shit! Well, now what am I supposed to do?"
I don't blame him. I'd be pissed, too, if I flew back from vacation and my home was frozen over. But, since I doubted I could adequately explain the concept of water having three forms and the related effects of temperature, I simply urged him to do as the Romans (and especially Minnesotans) do at this time of year: "Have patience, my friend. Patience."
In response, I'm pretty sure he did as the ducks do (and many frustrated Minnesotans). He flipped me the bird.