Sometimes You Fall

There are two things that are inevitable in Alaska:
1) it gets cold. 2) you will fall on ice.



Damn, I was doing so good until Saturday. It really hasn't snowed for about three weeks, so now everything left over is residual snow packed into a tricky form of ice. You know that kind of ice. The kind that hides itself in the shadows of the trees and pavement, awaiting the first touch of your shoe, so as to slide you down and feel the warm of your body against it. Except it's not really a slide. It's more like a splat or shatter.

There are different kind of falls. The half fall, where you are lucky enough to catch yourself and redeem face. Sometimes you catch yourself with your hands. A slight balance with the fingertips to steady the fall from being a fall and only a slip.

Or the backwards glide where your arms go flying behind your back and head in large motions circulating the arm socket just enough to find the balance and straighten the spine.

The arms play a very important role in saving a fall or slip. If you are carrying something like groceries, you have to be sure to extend the bags as a continuation of your arms. If you have books wrapped in your arms or bags strung across your shoulders, your arms really have to be a part of your core, so you have to walk swiftly in one motion.

Well, Saturday was a combination of all thee above. There was only one person who saw me, and he can attest, it really included a dramatic character of each arm, core, leg working in one opposite direction where I caught myself halfway down, then on the balance up, slipped with the other leg backwards, so now one is propped on the step and the other aiming directly for a bank of snow. I also had a cigarette in one hand and wine in the other, and sporting a huge furry coat and heels. Smart Alaskan Girl.

Tonight was just as comical, but instead of the combination-catch-fall, my arms and legs all ended in a displaced fashion and I may have even hit my head. Of course when you find yourself in a Bambi-the-kid position, only in a dark driveway and halfway under a truck, you aren't immediately struck with a way to get up. There is no place that offers any kind of leverage to lift your upper body up enough to pull your legs back under you. Moving on all fours, you find it hard to find anywhere to place your foot to pull all your leg weight into your middle to lift your upper body. It's a really hard place to be.

I somehow managed and halfway up almost said forget it! Run me over! I think it would feel better than the intense pain I feel throughout my legs and neck and spine when standing up. I started to cry like a child who just realized you stuck him with a needle while smiling. It was more of a whimper. Then I almost said: forget it! I'm not going! But then I looked into the window where Denise was peering over with her fur surrounding her face, eyes wide open and mouthed gaped. I crawled into the El Camino and whimpered to her.

Both were excellent party recreations. So, here's a laugh at my expense. :)