This is what happens when charging around like a gorilla. That’s what I call my cat, Baby, when she is racing around, “gorilla.” (No offense intended to any gorillas.)
Yesterday I was at a place where they make pallets, and they put wood scraps, some pallets, wood spools…and some wonderful big shipping boxes of wood. All these things are out for the taking by anyone passing by…and it is very popular.
Scott and I stopped to investigate one of the boxes, but I immediately realized that I was not going to be able to put that thing in my van, and Scott couldn’t do it alone. Just as we were going to leave a man in a car drove in to pick up some pieces for a project of his own. Scott asked if he would help him with the box. He said he would.
But the rear of my van was full of boxes of stuff–books, dishes, empty boxes–that had to be removed before the box would fit safely, even just to move down the road a few hundred feet to our house, which we could actually see from the pallet place.
We moved some of the stuff…but not fast enough for me…impatient Patsy, who has had a life-long reputation for being easily annoyed. So I started to march around the van to the other side, where the sliding door could open and I could facilitate the transfer of stuff.
Then I tripped over a box of books, and the next thing I knew the drive-way pavement was rushing toward my face, and I heard the thump as my forehead hit the ground. After determining that I was conscious, and nothing seemed broken–just hurting like crazy!
The Good Samaritan helped me up…which was not as simple as it sounds…and a quick survey assured all of us that we did not need an ambulance…and that I was OK to drive. The men put the box in the van and I drove home, none the worse for wear except for a giant bruise on my forehead, and some blood from a scratch on my nose.
By this morning, however, the bruises had all turned their lovely shades of purple and black. Two black eyes, and swelling around my eyes. What saved me from a broken nose, or worse, was my glasses…which are as good as new, I’m happy to say.
So I did and will do what any blogger/photographer would do…take a photo and write in my blog.
This picture is weird because its difficult to get a close-up shot with the reflection on the beveled edge of the mirror. I have a couple others, but this one is the best to show-off the damage to my face. (Besides, my hair looks better than it usually does.)
By the way, I am going to see my doctor on Monday, just in case. Also, I want to document the incident because it looks for all the world like someone beat me up…the only witness besides Scott is the man who helped us, and I don’t know who he is.