Why do I keep falling over? I am, as some might say, a lummox. Why can I not glide gently through my day to day chores, taking the obstacles of life in one's stride? Why do I, on the other hand, insist on tackling everything with the grace and speed of a bull?
I have fallen over not once but twice in the last week. I am not talking a slight bend of the ankle or a little trip. No. I have fallen down stairs and backwards out of the front door!
It was Sunday and the roast was on cooking beautifully in the oven and so I went out to get the washing in from the line (NB. V domesticated). So in I come, metal airer under one arm, big pile of washing in the other. Flip-flops on feet (the most sensible of my footwear collection). Flip-flop fails to support me over the terrain of gravel/mud/stone/rustic stairs and down I go like a big sack of spuds. Washing was everywhere and I was balanced precariously at the bottom of said rustic bloody stair. Anyway Gloucester came running to the rescue, took the washing (a rare sight; Gloucester + fresh washing) and escorted me inside, where I lay on the sofa legs up, feeling rather sorry for myself.
So that was Sunday, forward to Tuesday. I was still nursing my bruised back and buttocks(!) It was 6.45am and I'm all ready to leave. Out I go, through the front door, however the frickin thing wouldn't shut. After 5 slams I was getting rather worried that good ol' Janice from next door might being feeling a little peed off that her sleep was being rudely interupted at this god awful early hour of the morning. There was nothing for it, I decided to give it one last slam. So there I was, suit on, packed lunch in bag, both hands tightly gripped round the letter box handle. And 1...2...3...Off comes the bloody handle and I go flying, down the 2 front steps and onto my already bruised buttocks, with a nicely grazed knuckle thrown in for good measure. I lay there for a few seconds, let out a pathetic wimper and realised that I had better get myself up sharpish before the whole neighbourhood saw me (they talk around these parts you know). All was saved in the end though. Gloucester turned his car around (he was on his way to work) gave me a little TLC and shut the door for me! Bless!
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