Oh, ice storms, how I loathe thee...
Sure, they make for postcard-pretty scenery, and there's something soothing about hearing the constant cracking of limbs, branches, and trees outside in the crisp air, but that's about it. Back in the early 2000s when I lived in Arkansas, every ice storm the Arkansas State Police (and I'm sure many locals, as well) would literally clear out the Remington factory there of buckshot and birdshot -- pretty much anything that scattered. Cops would go around blasting into trees to try and clear the ice off the branches before they took out property or infrastructure.