My granddad the postie

My father's father Philip once wrote down all the jobs he'd had in his life - it came to 72 I think. When he was the village postman, he once cycled along the frozen canal in the deep mid-winter - it was the quickest way to pick up the post in the nearby village of Brewood. Unfortunately, he hit a weakpoint in the ice and he fell through. He rushed back home and dried out the post by the fire. No one found out.