The Old Gray Mare

One of the worst things about growing old is wondering whether living in the world is really so much harder now than it used to be, or whether it just seems that way because one's brain is getting addled.

The heavy rain last night flooded the basement, among other things. This afternoon I was going to mail a book, the garage floor was still wet, and I slipped and fell flat on my foreparts. Fortunately, the concrete floor broke my fall. Really, I fell with my arms outstretched and my head didn't hit anything. Pretty hard on my knees, though. I fell in exactly the same spot where I fell during the yard sale in 2007, only turned around the other way. I guess one fall every five years isn't too bad a score.

I had to go upstairs and clean up, and repack the book because the envelope was ruined. But otherwise, the day really went okay.