The best laid plans of mice and snow plows . . .

Perhaps it’s a metaphor for life. Or maybe it's nothing more than further proof that this winter has turned out to be a royal pain in the posterior region.

Whenever we get a significant snowfall hereabouts (which seems to be every other day this winter), the city plows not only the roads, but also the public sidewalks on major streets, including the one on which I live. This is a blessing for those of us who walk regularly.

Or it should be.

Thanks to the thaw-and-freeze cycle that occurs with occasionally warm days and consistently cold nights, the sidewalk on my street is an almost solid sheet of ice - some of it rutted, much of it as smooth as if a Zamboni had just passed by on its rounds. As a result, pedestrians routinely walk in the road, figuring it’s easier to dodge traffic than to stay upright on a skating rink. So the sidewalk, free of snow but covered in ice, goes virtually unused.

Sometimes, setting out to do the right thing doesn’t have the desired effect.