They may not look like much in this picture, but those icicles dangling from the top of our back porch... are terrifying. Sarah calls them deathcicles. They're jagged and about half my height (and I am tall).

Walking off the back steps and into the back yard toward the garage, I wince a little, bracing myself for a deathcicle to plummet and impale my brain, leaving me dead and giving my neighbors an excuse to paint a new novelty tombstone on their back wall.