Every now and then I disillusion myself with thoughts of being graceful, non-klutzy, able to walk 5 feet without falling on my face.
And then gravity kicks in and knocks me back to reality.
I am still trying to train Mishka (the 2 and 1/2 month old husky that snores louder than my husband). I had her outside to do her thing when she took off for the neighbors lovely green yard.
Our yard is sort of green. Here and there. In between all the patches of brown and then there's the bare spots that have yet to recover from those damn moles (and I would totally link you back to that whole saga if Blogger weren't being such a bitch).
So, off she ran and I followed just hoping they wouldn't notice that she was eating their lovely flowers. She is slippery and it took at least 4 devoured peonies before I caught her.
I started to carry her back over to our house when it happened.
We had our driveway extended a few months ago and when we did it left this little step up from the neighbors lovely yard to our driveway. A 6 inch step that I forgot all about until my foot found it and my chin met the sidewalk.
I skinned my knee, my shoe went flying off behind me. I caught the brunt of the fall with my hands and arms and cracked my chin on the pavement.
I laid there cursing gravity while Mishka chewed on my hair.
One of the neighborhood kids, I think she's maybe 4, stood over me slurping her popsicle.
"Whatcha' do that for?"
"It's fun. Why don't you try it?"
She didn't take me up on that. I'm almost sure I would've stopped her.