At the Weekend...

...I fell over. Not badly and the only thing hurt was my pride and my shoulders ache today from where I jarred them trying to break my fall.

One minute I was upright quite happily walking my dog, and the next I was flat on my face, with Dyson standing next to me and a look of puzzlement on his face which clearly said “What on earth are you doing down there?”

“I’m just taking a short break,” I said as I got back to my feet, and he quite happily trotted off, satisfied with this explanation.

I was trying to remember the last time I fell down and couldn’t. When I was a child I remember lots of bruised knees – I liked to rush everywhere – then when I was a teenager lots of grazed knees from falling over in the playground. But after my early teens I can’t remember ever falling down. Lots of trips, usually from not paying attention when I’m going up stairs.

There’s now a part of me that seems to kick in whenever I have a new experience, or repeat an old experience that I haven’t had in a long while. Some small part of my brain starts saying “I must remember what this feels like in case I ever want to include it in a story”.

It’s kind of helped me get through a few unpleasant things. And whilst falling over wasn’t as bad as having the camera put up my nose, they’re both experiences that I don’t want to repeat any time soon. But it’s very good to have those sensations logged in my brain.