Okay...on a scale of world ills, mine isn't so great but it's all I've got to complain about right now so here goes.

I've had two bad falls in the last two weeks. Both due to silly reasons and not something dreadfully medically wrong...at least I don't think there's anything dreadfully medically wrong.

Two weeks ago I was standing on the back porch, scraping the bottom of my boot against the porch step, got a wee bit overbalanced in the wrong direction and plummeted into a pile of bricks. Ahem...we keep the bricks piled up at the back porch as yard art. I mean, they *are* slave made bricks and all...

Then, a week ago today I went to the barn to feed the animals and as I'm putting foot to ground, I hear this SCREAM of some pain but mostly anticipated pain. A kitten had run underneath my foot and I JERKED my legs someplace and found myself stretched full out on the ground. I hit my right shin bone on a rock the size of a half brick and now am bruised from above the knee to the bottom of my foot. The bruise also encircles my leg *and* there's a goose egg knot on my shin bone. It looks like I've been in a car wreck.

It hurts like the dickens...then and now...it looks dreadful and I'm gimping around like Walter Brennon feeling sorry for myself, crying pitifully and looking simply awful when I do cry. It's just not a pretty picture, Boomer Sibs.

That's not the worst of it though. The worst of it is when I do fall, I get SO jostled! I mean, it feels like my brains slosh around in this pin ball machine I call a head, my blood skips and jumps, my breath feels like someone is trying to steal it every time I inhale.

I don't mind growing older but I am minding just something awful this falling apart business.

I haven't been to Curves in two weeks and am hoping to be recovered enough to go this coming week. I dunno though...right now I wouldn't go if Tom Selleck carried me.