Struggling to Stay Vertical

 

by Pa Rock

Headbanger

After lamenting in this space a little more than a week ago about the fact that the calendar was way into November and the Ozarks had yet to have a significant frost, and then yesterday using this space to recount the history of my two broken arms over the past four years, one of which occurred from slipping on a frost-covered incline, I can now report that the Ozarks had a good hard frost last night, and furthermore, that I somehow managed to slip on a frosty incline this morning while taking Gypsy for a walk and banged my head on the cold, hard ground.  However, no arms were broken in this fall, and my glasses which were slung off when my head hit the ground were not broken either.

(I have broken my glasses twice in the last month - once while in New York City - which led to my encounter with St. Theresa of 42nd Street - all of which I also blogged about here.)

Irony can be such a bitch.

I'm not blaming Gypsy for today's fall even though she was pulling the leash firmly this morning trying to follow the alluring scent of her boyfriend whom I had spotted sitting in the road about a quarter-mile beyond our house.  As soon as I hit the ground poor Gypsy rushed over and began licking my face.   She was really scared, and I was able to use her as a brace in helping me to stand.

I make a point of carrying my phone almost every morning when I walk just in case of a fall or some other catastrophe, but of course this morning I had forgotten it.  I had also forgotten in on each of the days when I managed to fall and break an arm.  I had intended to take it each time, but the road to hell truly is paved with good intentions.

Anyway, to recap:  the rose blooms and little tomatoes are now gone until next spring, and Pa Rock is still here struggling to stay vertical.

Them's the breaks.