As I near the end of my very first day on crutches, I think back to all of my close-calls.
To be fair, I wasn't given a great start. From birth I have had one leg longer than the other. As a baby I wore braces on my legs. As a toddler and into grade school I had to "walk the line"...which consisted of two yellow lines of tape stuck to the garage floor. I was sent out to the garage on a regular basis to walk with heels on the line, toes pointing out.
|Campfire in Joshua Tree|
|Glass Blowers in Venice|
Since that time, I have fallen out of cars, off of a pair of shoes, down stairs, up stairs, in my living room, in restaurants, at work, in the mall, in the middle of the day, in the dark of night, wearing heels, wearing flats, drunk as a skunk, sober as can be.
I. Am. A. Klutz!
Some especially fun stories include going to a gorgeous Fourth of July party at the big, beautiful home of friends of a friend on Geist Reservoir. We were carrying chairs down a windy set of wooden stairs built into a large hill from the house to the reservoir. I tripped or spontaneously fell or something and went head first down the rest of the stairs, landing in the dirt on my teeth. The owners of the home begged me not to sue them, while I begged everyone not to remember me for my klutzy, unladylike behavior!
Then there was the time I was walking with Robbie and a few of his friends in Broadripple. I had on kitten heels that were still tall enough to go down into a crack of the sidewalk and hang on, bringing me to my hands and knees. The boys had to take me to the nearest bar/restaurant to bandage my bloody knee.
|Fire Tower in Northern AZ (no actual fire)|
Or the time I came home from the airport to greet my waiting mother and aunt and forgot that my OWN living room has a small step down and went flailing into my aunts arms!
Yes, I provide lots of entertainment. More often than not they are funny falls without serious injury. Therefore, I had come to consider myself a professional faller. Until last night. Just walking along the sidewalk in the lead of a group of 6, I stepped off of the curb in the 'wrong' way and twisted my ankle completely to the side and landed on my arse. As always, I rebounded quickly but took the rear of the group. We finished our short walk to the bar where we sat and had a glass of wine. I was in no pain...until I stood to leave. My foot was swollen and I couldn't put any weight on it. Today, I'm on crutches. Crutches! What kind of professional is that?!
|Metal worker at Rawhide Wild West|
Okay, hope I made you laugh. I'm off to ice my foot.
Beauty without grace is the hook without the bait.
Ralph Waldo Emerson