I thought it was for a minute. Sprawled on the ground, blood dripping from my forehead, gingerly testing arms and legs, concerned that my glasses are broken. All my silly brain could think was, "I've had a fall. A fall. Old people have falls. This is the beginning of the end."
I think the jolt must have scrambled my brain for a minute or two. I very soon came to the conclusion that any idiot who walks around in jandals (thongs, flip flops) could trip on a lead that has been laying across the path for about five years. I can't count how many times I've tripped on it before. Which reminds me I must do something about the mat in the lounge room that often trips me up.
I'll take this trip as a hint to fall proof my home. After the last time my back was sore I rearranged my kitchen so I can avoid bending and reaching. Don't know why I didn't do it years ago. It doesn't matter if it doesn't make sense to anyone else where I keep my saucepans.
