I'm not hot shit in a wineglass, more curried goat in a paper cup

Flexibility is a really good thing.  I slipped on the front steps (Friday, just after my last LJ post), and for just a moment as I glanced back and saw my left heel above my left elbow I thought, "This could be bad."  But I levered myself up with my arms, my leg popped back into it's normal alignment, and I sat and rubbed the achy spot in my thigh for a few minutes, then decided I was okay to continue on my way.  Saturday when I woke up my knee was a little unhappy, and later I noticed the front part of my ankle was feeling a little overstretched (it still is), but I can't help but think it could have been much worse. 

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When Eor came home (still on Friday, here) he picked up the mail and delivered a Christmas card from my Aunt S. (It had gone back and forth in the mail.)  He commented that it's hard to know just how to react to her, sometimes, between her depressive tendencies and her chirpy voice.  "It's like a chickadee that calls 'chick-a-dee-dee-dee-suicide!'"  (Don't take that wrongly, because he likes her - I can't imagine how anyone couldn't.)

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( snowbank gloves and myth as reality )
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( delayed reaction - last week's near race riot at the laundromat. )