Have a Nice Trip. See You Next Fall.

The most wonderful man in the world called me last night. As my husband has been moved forward (to Kuwait) he has been unable to use the computer or a telephone as regularly as he had while in Iraq. Not being able to open my email and see a message from my husband nearly every day is quite deflating. But not nearly as deflating as the one-two punch he delivered last night.

Not only will he not be coming home this week as anticipated, he just might be delayed longer than the previously thought latest date. POOH! I guess it's my own fault. I had gotten my hopes up.

Over this past weekend with anticipation of his immanent arrival, I washed all the blankets and sheets. I did laundry for two full days. My house is clean, clean, clean. When he came home for R&R back in October, one of the first things he did was check the inside of the refrigerator. Unfortunately, I hadn't been as diligent about the refrigerator shelves or drawers as he would have liked. So, this past weekend, I made sure to wash out the drawers. It's a good thing, too. Did you know that old lettuce becomes stronger than plaster when refrigerated for three months? And epoxy-glue has nothing on month old, dried on fruit juice.

My Superman also has this thing about ice cubes. He needs lots of them on hand. As ice is really no big deal to me, I have let the ice tray empty. That is something I cannot have my husband see after all this time in the desert. Making Ice was added to my son's task list.

I wanted everything just right for my husband. Nothing was going to side-track me. Unfortunately, something did. While carrying a giant load of laundry downstairs, I took a tumble. No, I wasn't barefoot nor was I wearing slippery socks. I had on rubber soled boots. But, there I was slip sliding down a spiral set of concrete stairs.

Ever heard Eddie Murphy talk about his Aunt Bunny? In his skit, he tells how she tries to brace herself as she takes a tumble down the stairs. Lots of wailing, "Oh, Lord, please help me!!" That poor woman. I know exactly how she felt.

On my way down, somehow my right leg twisted behind me and my heel whacked me on the head. The inside of my knee hit every stair. The rail did nothing to stop my fall. I think it added to the number of bruises on my body. I crash landed at the bottom of the steps (on the concrete basement floor) and just knew my leg was broken.

"OW! OW! OW! OW!" was all I could say for several minutes. Perhaps my children would rush to my aid. NO. Perhaps my faithful and loyal dogs would investigate the tremendous clatter. NO. I sat there, alone in my agony. I could barely move. Then, my stomach joined the act. I thought I would vomit. That's when I just knew I was in serious trouble. I was afraid to try to get up.

Eventually, I did. Amazingly, nothing was broken, but I sure was bent. It's been four days now, and I'm still having troubles walking. It's now to the point where it hurts to move after I've been stationary for a bit.

Thank goodness I didn't really brake my leg. It would have been a royal pain in the buttocks to have a full-leg cast and crutches hobbling around. Can you see me trying to walk three terriers on crutches? What a sight that would be.