We didn't go to the Burlington waterfront fireworks, which are always held on July 3rd. They always put on a good show, but this year the estimate was 100,000 crowding in to see them. They set off the fireworks from a barge out in the lake. People with boats make a day and evening of it. The waterfront park is always jammed. The hard part is getting out. You really can't leave the waterfront without going through the city streets where everyone else is simultaneously trying to make their exit. I guess we are old. Watch boomy lights or avoid a two hour traffic snarl--no contest.
But I did have a bang up Fourth of July...quite literally. I went out to take the picture of my lavender for a previous post in the morning. I didn't even step into the garden. I don't know how my shoes got wet, but they surely must have been wet because as I stepped on the stairs to go into the lower level of our spit ranch I slid. I completely lost my footing and went "ass over tea kettle" (I believe that is the expression) and landed in a heap in the hallway below. I scared Mike with my thumping and bumping and screams of "OOOOH, NOOOOOO!" Aches and pains, but no serious injuries--no stitches or casts required.
It's always my dream to have a single floor dwelling. Mike is coming around to my way of thinking.
Holy Tumbling Tumbleweeds, Batman!
It's not that I am clumsy or anything but consider these vignettes from my life:
* As a toddler, I am looking for my mother and become convinced she is in the basement. Fall down steep stairs. Break my nose.
* I am riding a bike and hit a walkway decorated with slanted bricks. Land on brick edge. Scar just south of eye socket.
* I try to fly by jumping off the radiator but fall instead and gash my leg. Crying.
* I carry a birthday cake I had made and decorated into the living room on my father's birthday. I trip over my own feet and smash the cake on the floor. Ha, ha, family laughter.
* My father had knee surgery and was stretched out on the TV room floor (watching TV int he dark so as to not waste electricity). I walk into the room and trip over his recently cut open and therefore really sore knee.
Strong oaths and bad words shouted.
* I walk across the school parking lot on a winter day and slip in front of a stopped (empty) school bus. Books fly up into the air and I land on my keester. Classmates are watching out the library windows. Comments in my year book for three years running--never mind that I could have been valedictorian.
* As I am delivering a high school lesson, I am so engrossed in the subject that I am gesturing and walking backwards, thrilled at the looks of intent interest on the faces of my students. I back into an unoccupied desk and land on the floor. Major entertainment, little concern for my well-being.
* I paint the back door exterior. Since the screen has been taken out, I step through the opening rather than open the door. I'm in a hurry. I catch my foot and break the middle toe on my left foot.
Why would I ever, ever try to recover repressed memories. I'm sure they would be way too painful. Past life regressions--not for me. I don't want to know.