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The reason I decided to write this particular story, or maybe a series of tales would more aptly describe them, is because one of my sisters brought to mind another of my “tales” as she was incorrectly guessing the origin of one of my blog stories.

I used to say that I was a klutz or that I was not very graceful. I decided that those particular descriptions did not adequately describe me at all. I am not really a klutz (I am REALLY not-bull in a china store comes to mind) and I DO TRY to be graceful, most of the time falling far short of the mark, but I do try. I finally came to conclusion of claiming it and naming it for what it is – things just happen to me, I am Lucille Ball personified.

Just in case you are having doubts, there was the time……………..

My husband, Jeffery built a wagon to haul things around our huge yard. Unbeknownst to me, he completed it. He hooked it to the tractor and came to the door to show me his new “prized” possession. Imagine my surprise when he showed me the chair he had thoughfully place in it. My husband then drove me around the yard and I pretended that I was a princess and waving to all of my subjects.

In my world, no one was watching so it was all fun and games, UNTIL I saw the old man next door who was observing the goings on in our yard, and by the look on his face had decided his new neighbors were nuts.

Why this surprises me, I don’t have a clue. Every time I rode the tractor I could be heard for miles around (I am quite sure) singing, “Green Acres is the place to be. Farm living is the life for me…) Isn’t that what normal people do?

Then, there was the time……………..

I skipped a step going down into the garage and careened into a four x four post, ending up in a heap on the floor. In between, I messed up my rotor cup, bruised the side of my rib cage, and knocked the breath out of myself. I finally got my husband’s attention by banging on the dryer door. He told me he heard a noise but because I had not yelled, he thought everything was fine. His comment, “You shouldn’t prance down the steps.” (Uh! Hello? That is not what I do.) He then asked me if I wanted to sit in a chair. At that point, I could breathe again and just retorted that I could not fall any further than the floor and I thought I would just stay there for a while.

I often tell my husband (usually after I’ve “done” something,) “Ya gotta love me. What else ya gonna do with me?” My wonderful husband has learned from experience that I can be a handful and should be watched at all times! If he is working on a project, especially if it is one for me, I am stuck right there in the middle of it with him – usually in the way. My Guardian Angel has her hands full with me; just keeping me safe is a full-time job.

There was also the time…

Jeffery was building a set of bookcases for me. He was hammering the shelves in, and, of course, I was there watching every nail being nailed in. I love designing furniture and my carpenter husband brings it to fruition, so I get excited and usually get in the way. As I normally do, I got a little too close and when he swung the hammer back, it connected with my knee. Fortunately, I did not sustain any major injury. The accident was his fault. I even told him so. I told him that he had been married to me long enough to know that he should always be watching for me to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. You would think that he would remember.

Then, there was the time……and you will have to come back to read all about it.