Except that my clementless exposure was via that of -- the sprint enroute to basement, then off to shed for a pipe {even quicker, brrr...} - for leverage for the wrench, for the kitchen sink cleanout -- unmolested, probably since the '50s.

(Natch it wasn't the first cleanout. The second one did it today, though.)

Ahh then...
the warmth on return to Hobbitlike coziness; all those BTUs from dead dinosaurs, which we so take for granted.



Now, as to one February in Quebec City -- what's the coefficient of friction of glare ice?