I fell yesterday. A lot.

I fell while I was skating. Four times. Yes, I know how to skate, I just haven't in a long while. I skate with old-fashioned quad boot skates. I forgot to remember to feel the pavement with my feet using the vibrations caused by the wheels. That's how yah do it. You feel the ground, just like you would if you were walking.

Third fall was hard enough that I bruised the heel of my left hand even though I wear heavy-duty wrist protectors. I also wrenched the feck out of my shoulder, which I didn't notice until later.

Fourth fall was just stupid: I was trying to sit down on a bench to take off my skates and missed.

I skated back home, even though I debated the wisdom of it, because the road home is downhill. I got speed I'd drooled for ten years ago. It was not fun, realizing it was going to hurt a lot if I tripped again. I slowed myself down at the expense of one side of my toe stop.

Tomorrow, I'm going to try the track at the park.


Mark came home for lunch and decided to do yard work, and lured me in. I pruned back branches in danger of whacking people going down the sidewalk, he came along and gave them shots of pruning spray. (The spray is a must, it keeps bugs and bacteria out.)

We have a tree in the front yard that I can actually climb. Mark asked me to so I could cut a dead branch out of our reach. I started up the first time, and slipped back down, giving my left shin bark rash, which still burns 16 hours later.

I went back up, and couldn't reach the branch. I started back down, and started to lose my grip halfway, so I jumped.

And fell. Again.

I went back in after that.