* And Jill came tumbling after….

falling-99175_640I must say, Lizzi’s Ten Things of Thankful has been an impetus to look on the bright side of my tumble down the the stairs this past week.  I could have used Jack to slow my descent, but here are my silver linings:

  1. Our stairs are carpeted.
  2. I realize now that I am not qualified to steer a luge in the Olympics.  It’s good to know.
  3. I did not realize how hurt I was.  I would have been much more shaken had I known.
  4. I did not know I would hurt more each day.  “Each day has enough trouble of its own.”
  5. I did not hit my head.  Any more concussions and I won’t know who I am.
  6. I will restart my PT exercises on my bad knee.  I had been slacking off.
  7. My bum has more padding than I realized.  Not sure how to evaluate that, exactly.
  8. My dearest widower has taken good care of me.  True love.
  9. There are only 14 steps in most sets of stairs.  What if there were 30?
  10. I could never become addicted to painkillers.  I wouldn’t know who I am, where I am, and what I’m supposed to be doing.  Of course, that does describe me in a sleep-deprived state.  That’s another post.

Bonus for today!  Here’s another image created by my tutoring kiddo, taking a brain break from our long distance teaching.  He’s “at the beach” with his snorkel, hair cut Mohawk-style and a lot of facial hair for a young’un, while eating a cake.  Do you recognize him?Hangout 4


* Ten Things of Thankful

First, thanks to Lizzi and her Considerings blog (read her post on valuing relationships- it’s great).  Lizzi is all about the silver linings, the half-full glass, no matter what.  Here are my silver linings for the past week in one package.  Fasten your seat belt, for this is a spiderweb tale.  Eventually it will come to an end.

cloudscape-384672_640I was picking up stray branches from a strong thunderstorm in our abyss back yard.  We’d desperately needed rain so I had been praying HARD all day for rain.  That night we had a strong thunderstorm, complete with hail which bounced like marbles on our cars.  We got 3 inches of rain plus branches, twigs, cats, dogs, etc.  I had been eyeing that mess out the window for days.  It’s always interesting to me that my dearest blog widower is trash-blind.  I’d love to be a fly on the inside of his head.  Or maybe not.  Ew!  At any rate, I can’t stand to see random sticks all over the “yard.”  What’s growing there already looks bad enough.  But first, the birdlings.  They also come to our feeders in storms, especially now that they are taking care of their second and third broods.  And the bird bath was nasty.  I put on plastic gloves and got the feeders nicely cleaned and stocked.  The birdlings were whistling excitedly in the trees:  Go!  Go!  Go!

But, I had to do something about the storm detritus, even though sweat was pouring off my face with a heat index well over 100 degrees.  I hate dripping wet skin.  Plus, my middle name is Mosquito Bait AND I hadn’t sprayed myself with insect repellent.  A little voice in my head said, Go!  Go!  Go!!  Typically, I responded, No!  No!  No!  I’ll grab just a few branches and oh, there are a few million weeds, and look at those tree seedlings sprouting up everywhere!   In the worst section of the yard, the part that is reverting back to Snakeland, I reached deep to pull out some twigs.  Then I felt it.  A tiny zap on my wrist.  I looked down and saw a deer tick.  If I had a robotic hand, I would have severed it right there. (Sometimes I like to think about having robotic parts.)  The tick and I ran our separate ways.

You made it!  Silver lings time:

  1. We have two cars.
  2. We have a lovely house and pretty nice front yard.
  3. We have a fantastic bird feeder system.
  4. We have non-latex gloves.
  5. We have beautiful trees.
  6. We got 3 inches of rain.
  7. I am not visually impaired.
  8. I FELT the tick on my wrist.
  9. I was not bitten by anything.
  10. I repented of blaming my widower for being trash blind.  But I did make him listen to all of the above.  He loves me SO much!  Happy Father’s Day, dearest widower!