Yesterday, D and I went out to do some field work. It's a bit technical, but I'll try not to butcher the explanation of what we were doing. We were looking for a monument that the Army Corps of Engineers had placed that has elevation on it. Using that, we'd determine what the elevation of the lake is near one of the survey projects that D has.
Anyway, the first one we went looking for had gotten destroyed about 20 years ago by the land owner (guess he didn't see the notice that said he'd get a $500 fine for destroying it). The second one we looked for had gotten torn down for some reason or other. We had to walk along some railroad tracks in order to find it and, since we couldn't, we had to leave. Now I come to the whole point of this story.
The embankment between the tracks and the road was pretty steep. Most people that know me know that I'm a clutz by nature, but I was honestly being really careful. D ended up having to run down the embankment and across the street in order to keep on his feet. I waited for a couple cars to pass before attempting my descent. I was carrying a shovel (which wasn't all that heavy, but probably put me a tad off balance to start with). When I took my first step, my foot started sliding, so I took another step to try and catch myself. Unfortunately, that gave my upper body too much forward momentum for my feet to catch up and I landed smack in the middle of the road. Thankfully, I knew the next car was a ways away, but still... I landed mostly on my right knee, which got scraped to hell and back. My hands were scraped a little bit, but not bleeding at all. I was alright, just sore. I mean, it's not the first time I've scraped my knee and not the first time I've done it falling in the middle of the street with a car coming (and that other time, the car was much closer). But, needless to say, I freaked D out with that little accident. He was on the phone with a client and turned back just in time to see me fall. All I heard was "Oh S***! I'll call you back." Um...yeah...I think I scared him a little bit. *giggles* I really was fine, though.
When we got home, he made me show him my knee and it was a right bloody mess. Not dripping or anything, but messy. I didn't care about doing anything with it...I mean it's just a scraped knee. But he insisted on putting Peroxide on it and Neosporin and bandaids... He takes such good care of me. :)
It looks much better today, but still stings like the dickens. :p Stupid knee.
(oh, and it's a little worse, but not as long lasting as the effects from the afore mentioned vodka fiasco)
1 comment:
Vodka fiasco? Care to expand on that? :)
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