If I didn't have any calanders in the house, I would still know that January has arrived. Why? Because the icicles have returned to my house.
The bright-boy architect (it had to be a man, because this house was built in 1967) decided to put the front door smack-dab under a roof valley. That means the gutter builds up a massive ice dam, and we get loads of icicles.
While they're really quite pretty to look at (especially if you look at them through the glow of your Christmas lights, but honestly, can I keep turning them on through March?), they make entering the house a real safety hazard--not just from melting onto the step, but possibly falling on your head. (Since that picture was taken, they've grown to massive proportions--and in only a day or so.) I whack them off--they grow back.