On the way home, I had a bit of excitement. It was again raining and cold, but I made it to Union Station and followed the woman in front of me down the escalator. I gave her a few steps worth of stopping distance ahead of me, and it's a good thing I did. All of a sudden, my foot flew off the step of the escalator in mid stride and I slid/fell straight down. The only thought in my mind was - hold on for dear life or else you'll slide all the way down and take out everyone ahead! When I stopped, I found that I had one hand clenched on the handrail, another on the escalator step, and my right foot firmly planted on the step ahead while my left leg hung confused in the air. A fellow who had been passing me on the left bent down and asked if I was all right. "I'm ok!" I declared cheerfully as I pulled myself up to standing. I continued walking with a little extra caution after that, though I don't think the lady in front of me even noticed the spill that I took. I thought that I had nicely scuffed up my left heel, but upon examination at home, I found no signs to show that anything had happened.
I got home to find my Amazon book in the mail and happily curled up on the sofa in warmer clothes to read it. I'm finding it to be of very close "aesthetic distance" - in other words, it's engaging, though not necessarily in the most pleasant way. Reading about the culture of the mid-1800's American South is like reading about a different world. The writing is very easy to follow, though, and I hardly notice the time pass as I ravenously devour the text.