Well, I have several things to share today. Feel free to comment as you wish. I’ll start from today and go back. As I’m typing this I have bruises on my left foot, left and right shin, left knee, top lip, right arm (that’s a big one) and a big bump on the top of my head.
In explaining what happened to people at work, I used an unfortunate term referring to Polish people who I truly do have mixed emotions about due to their role in exterminating Jews during WWII. Some who love to hate me (you know who you are) will take this as further proof of my bigotry. I take it as a cultural phrase assumed as habit which I’m now working on overcoming due to my realization that I used the terms at least four times while I was in shock and explaining my car accident.

But truly Monday, October 4, is one of the klutziest days of a very klutzy life. Klutz is, hopefully, PC–and will be my new word to describe myself.

Well, it all started when I went out to Bill’s shop to start to put “stuff” into my new car which he’d removed from my old car. There were two boxes of this stuff–such a pack rat I am. I decided the basket with my toothbrush, etc. and the baseballl bat were the most necessary items and piled my arms with those things. (I’m not even going to explain the necessity of the baseball bat). I was wearing flip-flops and yelling at my huge yellow lab and small jack Russell to get down (they were all excited to see me outside, doesn’t happen often) as I went up the steps to the back porch. They completely disregarded my authority in their celebration of my existence and my flip-flop caught in the door jam thing-y; the dogs went tumbling in the house and I toppled to the floor of the dining room, smacking myself in the lip with that baseball bat.

For a minute, I just laid there stunned and in pain–dang that hurt! The dogs were scared by the noise and I bleary-eyed looked up at them and thought “if somebody came into the house and popped me in the mouth, that would be the end of the resistence.” The dogs would adore anybody who eased their burden and I realized I’m a wimp about pain.

Gathered up the detritus and carried on with my day. Bill texted me asking me to bring him a jacket because it was raining (oh, yes, we rival teenagers at texting!) so I put his jacket and an umbrella into the car. Dropped off the jacket, then stopped at the public library where I’m a regular just as the rain really hit hard. Opened the door, stuck out my leg and my classy brown umbrella which came with a new purse, hoping to rescue my hair-do. The wind blew the door shut hard onto my leg, destroying the umbrella and again I went into shock from pain. Guys, that really hurt! Sat there wondering if my leg was broke (it wasn’t) and spent a few minutes trying to fold the umbrella back up. Unsuccessful. Threw the open umbrella in the back seat, considering the bad-luck-ness of it, then gave up on the hair-do and went into the library to pick up my usual armload orf books.

Went to work. Parked my brand-new (to me, anyway) Chevy Equinox, which I LOVE and feel unworthy of, in a safe parking space away from other cars. Later, I went out to my car to eat lunch (many of us do this, because we need to get away from the noise). I drove across the parking spot to park under some trees, ate my tuna sandwich (with Lay’s potato chips, a necessity with tuna sandwiches) and chocolate pudding while I started a new library book. When lunchtime was up (this was 8:20 pm, I started up the car to move it to a space near the front door because I’m a bit nervous about walking across the parking lot at 11:30 at night. I do this all the time.

However, as I pulled out from under the tree, carefully negotiating so’s not to hit the light poles to the left of me, I crashed my car. That’s the only way I can put it. Never even saw the light pole on the right. Or don’t remember, which makes me wonder if I got knocked out because you would not believe how much damage can be done to your body without seat belts when only going a few miles an hour. I flew forward, hitting the top of my head on the rear view mirror (I’m assuming, because I honestly don’t remember hitting my head) and really banging up my right arm. I was in shock and pain for the third time that day and this was bad. It took a few minutes to figure out what happened and then I remember thinking somebody would come help me. LOL. Nobody did. So I backed up my poor car and parked it and went in to tell my boss I was hurt and going home.

Apparently, many others had hit that light pole, because they’d put a big cement thing around it and THAT had been hit! They were picking out the spots others had hit based on their car colors. “No that’s where James hit, it’s blue.”

Upshot is huge bruise on arm–not broken and bump on head and a new fervent testimony of seat belts. I’m not making this up–I look like somebody beat me up. Sort of feel like it. I’m wondering if my daughter-in-law had a witch doctor make a doll in my likeness and image and knocked it around a bit.

You know, Sarah got broad-sided on a busy street when she pulled out from a stop sign—the lady was going a lot faster than I Monday night, but both were wearing seatbelts and didn’t have a scratch. Then she made a left turn in from of a big pickup on Bluff Street in St. George. Traumatized, but not a scratch, wearing her seatbelt. Guys. Wear seatbelts.
We had a neighbor girl—high school cheerleader, prom queen who got in a terrible accident when she was 18. She and another girl were going on the freeway from Cedar City to St. George when the driver reached down to pick up a slice of pizza and rolled the car. My friend went through the windshield and scraped the road with her body and head for a number of yards. We thought she might die. She lived, thank God, but spent years having surgery after surgery to correct the damage done to her face in that accident. Of course there were other injuries, but those to the side of her face are the most striking. She still has scars, but the first few years, the left side of her face was terribly deformed. For a time, doctors put a balloon under the skin near her left eye prior to reconstructive surgery. Once beautiful, she looked much like the hunchback of Notre Dame, depending on which side of her face you focused on. This made such an impression on my kids that to this day, they are religious about seatbelts. Back then, what was that—1990?—it wasn’t such a big deal to wear seatbelts.
So I was a believer before Monday, but now I’m totally born again. If I can get hurt that bad going from one parking space to another, I shudder to think what would happen if I were driving 20 mph down the street and got in an accident without wearing seatbelts. Guys. Wear seatbelts.

The other thing is sort of stupid but important. We’ve talked a lot about disconnecting Direct TV and going with antennas. To save $$ and also to give us more time. I love, love TV, but I read so I can take or leave it. Bill enjoys TV in the evening. He hates honey-do chores and had put off doing what was necessary to get the antenna installed. I’m not a nag, believe it or not, so I left it alone. But I was worried about the expense and also how tired he gets because he starts watching about 8:30 and sometimes has a hard time turning it off.

After conference, though, I prayed about it. And got a comforting feeling telling me to trust in his goodness and not to bring it up. Monday morning (my klutzy Monday) he got up and said, “I think we should cancel Direct TV. Will you call them?” And I said yes and so we have and the Lord is good.

And that’s my interesting experiences for this week.