Hardly did a bloody* thing today. But I still fell down and hurt myself. How stupid is that!?
No biggie. Just caught my foot on a baggage strap. Fell. Usually when that kind of thing happens, I just jump right back up. Quick-like. You know? (‘didja blink?’) Sorta like, ‘……….it didn’t really happen?’ But this time I just lay there for a minute. Horizontal. Laid-back – literally. Not so bad. It was nice, actually. Kinda relaxing. I would have stayed down a bit longer but a guy lying on a deck embracing luggage looks weird even if there is no one around to see it. So, I eventually got back up and carried on.
I find it strange that I manage to find blood in just about everything I do. Slightly bloody* knee this time.
I was packing stuff down from the deck to Sal at the beach. She and her small boat were headed off to the post office by way of our parked car and she was going to load up our vehicle for our pending trip south. It is always a good idea to pack the car the day before in case the weather gets bad. If the weather is bad on the day of departure, you would prefer to not have to deal with it in a fully loaded small boat with two dogs. Ergo, the pre-trip-day packing exercise.
And, of course, I used the new ramp. “How is it?” asked Sal.
“Absolutely wonderful! A delight. Easy. Makes me wonder why I hadn’t done this years ago.”
And therein lies the point of this blog entry: absence makes the heart grow appreciative. I am currently in love with that old ramp.
I know this weird psycho-phenomenon well. Sal and I lived on our sailboats for 11 years. Because boats have limited water storage, we would shower at friend’s houses, the aquatic centre, gym changing rooms and a variety of ‘sneak-showers’ all across the city. When we moved ashore and could once again enjoy a hot shower for as long as we liked, it was a luxury, a treat, a little ‘special’ gift that, to this day, we still appreciate.
And the same goes for electric lights NOT limited by battery banks, plenty of running water whenever you want, hot water on-demand, a closet full of toilet paper and well, the list goes on and on. I confess that having a fairly well-stocked food shed is also becoming a comfort of sorts. Living without those conveniences is no great trial but, when they re-enter your life, you have an increased appreciation for it. And we still get that.
Strangely, I still have no appreciation for band-aids. You’d think………