Learning to Walk...at the Age of 40

 Today's blog is accompanied by the photo theme of the weekend for the Photographers Adventure Club: smoke and fire.

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

My first recollection of falling was in the 6th grade.  It was the final day of school and we were having Field Day.  Do they still do this?  Little, "fun", sporting events held outside for the entire day.  We were doing the tire race.  The class was split into two teams and we each had to roll the tire down a small hill, around a pylon cone, and back up the small hill to our next waiting teammate.  I luckily got on the same team as my year-long boyfriend, Brett Bowers, who had just dumped me.  It was my time to impress him!  My turn came up, decked out in my white knee socks pulled as high as they would go (to best cover my chicken legs and ugly birthmark), I took the tire and began rolling it toward the pylon.  Along the way I hit a rock and bounced the tire, tripping on it and falling INTO the tire.  The tire, with me inside of it, rolled the rest of the way down the hill and landed at the pylon.  With a red face, I twisted my body out of the tire and ran it back up to my waiting teammate...making sure not to make any eye contact with Brett!

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

And speaking of crutches...if anyone out there can tell me how I am supposed to carry ANYTHING while getting around on crutches...PLEASE share!  Eric has become my bitch; which he's handled with grace this first 24 hours...but I'm certain he will not put up with it for long!  Plus I hate having to ask him to do things for me...HATE it!

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