Consoling myself with the thought that the fact I took the fall meant some aulder one did not is no longer consoling. The hip is burning hot. It does not protest as much in the last hour until I move it. What an absurd accident! If this keeps me from the tumbling mats on Wednesday I shall present myself at the site office and show it to the damn eejit that left the sign to fall down across the pipe and looked like it was meant to be there.
And the shock! Jayseezsus. I don’t like shocks. Not at all. And how they last. All this jittery shaking dizzy biz that a cup of tea won’t touch. I hope it will all just be a 72 hour bundle that passes.
And down she came with an incredible tumble. Christ it hurts to fall over, especially on a slope, in the pissing rain. Some bloody condo developer’s sign took me out and took me out strong. Like something out of a cartoon. Except the painful hip (cut despite a coat and 3 layers of clothing) is currently a constant burning reminder it was not a cartoon.
Some further affront that it was a daft condo building emerging out of the ground that tripped me. I was stuck down there for a while in shock, finally a nice bloke came along and offered to help me and help he did. He lifted the stupid sign up, so no one else would fall and lamented my fall in the pissing rain and offered to walk me home.
Still shaking and most definitely stirred. I think the unbreakable catholic bones have once again triumphed.
Much to say about our Taxi! event. I am still getting messages via Facebook from people and I greatly appreciate them. I’ve never done anything like this event before. Unfortunately I am too exhausted too write the way I’d like to about the night right now, but will. Indeed I am too tired to go to the new BLIM opening that I’d been looking forward to, which is the closing of our show Storage.
Helen was thrilled with the event. Another thing hearing it read aloud was how excellent the prose is, I knew that when I read it but hearing those extracts on Thursday it became even stronger. There were wonderful personal stories that were part of the readings (Annabel/family. Julie/unemployment/work shitty day. Marina/Intervention/the hand, the five dollar bill, the stain & more) They seamlessly integrated to and from the text. Employment is a rich, complicated and frustrating experience in Vancouver. I had a great conversation and post-mortem on Friday morn with Julie, Nirajan and Jane and in that discussion we agreed there was something specifically peculiar about the experience here. I’d like to do another event that would seek to examine that in the same multi-media way (eg: not just readings, but music and other contributions, including yo yo tricks).
New gardening gloves, a handsome car wash sponge and a swimsuit were my birthday pressies to myself before I became overwhelmed by an urge to hoover the car and drove in search of a vacuum and the one I put a dollar into was suckless. Still the motion of hoovering was satisfying. 
I am way behind with planting my seeds because of the back bash up, next week a friend is coming to help me dig out more of the building rubble I keep uncovering in my plot. I hope it won’t be over for the peas or beans or whatever should have gone in. Last year Grandma and the small male planted much of it and it was terrific. Except the other half that wasn’t terrific and that appears to have been caused by being the burial ground for a former fish and chips shop. My carrots were like stumpy little toes. “ickle” carrots. Deep fat fryer stunted carrots. Other than that small hint of carrot it was barren.