Call me Klutz. A. Klutz, hah.
Well, the day arrives with gloomy rain pounding down on the roof, while once again the mountain is cloaked in clouds.
There are some dreams lingering in my mind when I get up, but, as dreams tend to do, they fade as "reality" catches up with me, forcing me to face the day head on.
It is strange, the way of reality, really. The familiar phrase "reality catches up on you" does indicate that some wariness towards it is warranted, as it is known to sneak up on you when you least expect it.
Reality in life, I think is most certainly a living entity of sorts that leers around every corner, waiting to make your life miserable, especially when something good has happened. It seems to revel in "catching" you unawares, and setting you in in your so-called rightful place, and I sometimes theorize that reality is actually a cruel creature, forever haunting us.
But I get distracted, as usual. Back to the recount of the day:
The path from my cabin is terribly muddy, my shoes sinking in a good inch while I make my way to the main house, and skid occasionally when keeping a weary eye on Trin Trin, the Monster Boxer who is more than eager to pounce on the Labs, keeps me from watching my footing. A large stick in my hand keeps her entertained. While wiggling it enticingly for the Boxer, I end up with a large splinter that embeds itself in the side of my palm just to annoy me, I'm sure.
Today promises to be more than a little challenging.
The house is damp with the night's chill still lingering, so after lighting some lamps I proceed towards the gas heaters and fire them up to dry and warm the place before the rest of the dogs and family members join me.
Though quite futile on days such as these, I hang a batch of laundry and then have a quick breakfast ere checking my messages of the day and settling down to do some serious writing...I am fully prepared to dive in, too, right up until it becomes apparent that more pressing matters demand attention.
Our tenant -who was hospitalized several weeks ago- will be returning in just a few weeks and before that time arrives we are going to have to make some adjustments to her bungalow. She'll be bound to a wheelchair for at least a while until her rehabilitation starts to take root, and for that reason alone, accommodations have to be met.
Together, big brother an I head up the mountain, with the rain coming down full force and drenching any uncovered part of us in just seconds. Once there, we take stock of what needs to be done. Measurements for the new flooring that will need to be put down are taken, along with a quick list of other things that have to be repaired. And while we're there anyway, we decide to move our tenant's closet in favor of creating easy access to her bathroom.
The closet isn't all that heavy, and a quick look assures us that shifting it with its back against the wall won't be much of a problem on such short notice.
Together we grab it on both sides, pushing and shoving it back when suddenly a whispery sound overhead makes me glance up, just when we've pitch the large piece of furniture slightly forward.
I am barely in time to catch the flurry of movement overhead, when I tilt my head back to locate the origin of the sound, wondering for only a moment whether to dodge the white plastic bag sliding straight at me, or trying to catch it instead. A full frontal collision with the bag... and the gleaming black plastic box it contains, decides it for me.
Whap! A noisy crack echoes through the space as for a full three seconds I try to decide whether it hurts or not. A blinding flash of something very much like belated pain pounds through my skull, originating from the bridge of my nose, stabs deeply into my brain.
I mutter a few choice words as the object that caused it, thuds to the concrete floor with a crack and I squeeze my eyes tightly shut as darkness swirls around me.
Flaying around in a rather inelegant fashion, with the startled outcries of big brother and my honorary grandpa who have witnessed the entire thing, coming from both sides, I grab for -and miss- big brother's sleeve. Momentum makes my back slam against the wall before I sag through legs that suddenly feel like jelly.
My vision is alternating between complete black and flashing lights at that time and my butt is rapidly soaking up wetness from the floor while I try to decide whether to hold on to the wall behind me or nurse my pounding face, instead.
Involuntary tears that have little to do with the pain, and everything with the automatic response of my protesting eyes, roll down my cheeks when I finally raise my hands to my face and carefully probe nose and forehead. No damage so far, and a few deep breaths follow when slowly the pounding begins to subside.
"What the heck was that?" I manage to ground out, uttering a few more choice words, just for good measure, as big brother, little more than a bodiless voice to me at this particular time, explains that it was and old clunky cassette recorder from the early eighties which had made the unfortunate introduction to my face.
Though my eyes are a bit blurry, and turn around in their sockets a bit before I am able to focus, no skin is broken and no blood flows, assuring me that however startling the event was, no lasting damage is done.
After a few minutes of recovery, some noisy sniffs and a helping hand from big brother and grandpa, I scramble to me feet and play supervisor to the remainder of the measurements being taken.
Once done, we return to the house, discussing what all needs to be done and share a wonderful meal prepared by the younger sibs while going over supplies that we'll have to get for the modifications to the bungalow.
During most of the evening that follows, little discomfort or even thoughts are spared to the event, as dishes are washed, pans scrubbed and cupboards are cleaned in pursuit of the meal we have shared.
A slight pounding finally resurfaces by the time the day comes to an end, rewarding me with a generous headache now that the time for rest has arrived.
Klutziness... it is much like reality: It'll hit you when you least expect it.
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