Who would expect that an 80-something-year-old-woman would fall flat on her face on a huge slab of plywood and not break a single bone?  I thought of that when I returned to the “scene of the crime” on Wednesday.  It was sort of like getting right back on the horse once you’ve fallen.  Much to my surprise—and relief—the plywood was gone.  Someone with authority must have heard the ambulance and decided to do something about the hazard.

Fifteen years ago, Peter tripped on a sidewalk and pulled me down with him.  He was fine.  I fractured my hip.  In the emergency room, the doctor on duty said, “You know, most people aren’t alive a year after a fall like you’ve had.”  Thank goodness, I’m not most people.

But this fall was a wake-up call.  No matter how scintillating a conversation I am having on future walks, I will keep my eyes glued to the sidewalk.

We all should.