All of us have fallen over at sometime in our lives. Either because we’ve imbibed too much of the jolly juice, or there’s been ice and snow on the ground or we’ve just been wearing slippers (the deadliest of all footwear and are banned in my house) we’ve all found ourselves A over T at least once. As you get older, the chance of going down increases along with the chances of not getting back up again.
Once of my most spectacular pratfalls occurred when I was a child during the heatwave of 1976, when I managed to fall UP some stairs and break my right arm. So there I was plastered up during the hottest period of weather in recent history with only plastic drinking straws pushed together to make a improvised scratcher to releive my irritation of the plaster cast.
Another time I fell over because I was roaring drunk, straight into the front garden onto the sharp rockery. But no damage done because my body was limp with booze and just seemed to bounce back up again as you do when you are younger, fitter and happier.
In the early hours of this morning, I was only early bottle duty, preparing a bottle for Herbie as he slowly tried to cry the house down like Joshua bringing down the walls of Jericho, except using the power of his tiny (but loud) lungs rather than trumpets. The delivery driver was early and so I decided to be a clever bastard and bring the newspapers in while I was waiting for the bottle to warm up.
As I was moving from the kitchen through the office to the shop floor, I’d forgotten to open the conjoining doors, and began to swing my body around to put the bundle down in my left hand, so I could open the door and make safe passage through it. Unfortunately, my body decided that something else was going to happen.
I can only describe as an invisible hand pulled the rug away from me as both legs gave way and I toppled forward, headfirst into the door frame, right shoulder taking a lot of the impact after my head and then I slide rapidly earthwards… BANG, BANG – both knees hit the stone tiles, then I awoke a split second later with my nose pressed hard against the cold brass plate that covered the step.
Don’t worry. I’m still alive. Just a bump on the head, pains down my right side and two sore knees. If I don’t write another entry, you know why. 🙂
The problem with falling down is getting back up again, no?

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