December has been... interesting.
It started with battery troubles in my car—clearly a sign that I don't drive it
nearly enough. The dead battery made me late for one event, caused me to miss
another entirely, and sent me down a rabbit hole of researching both jump starters
and battery chargers — these are BRILLIANT! — NOCO Boost GB40: 1000A UltraSafe Jump Starter and the NOCO GENIUS5:
5A 6V/12V Smart Battery Charger. I finally felt a sense of accomplishment once I had
that sorted out.
No sooner had I patted myself on the back than I took the first of two rather
spectacular falls.
Of course, I have no one to blame but myself for these mishaps.
I'd been utterly charmed by a whimsical holiday doormat from World
Market—festive, cute, and seemingly harmless. My front porch is small, so I
usually keep decorations minimal: just a wreath on the door and I'm done. But
this year I'd gone all out with little pre-lit Christmas
trees in urns flanking the
door, a pair of lanterns, and a darling rustic Santa, so naturally the porch needed a coordinating
rug to tie it all together. I placed it proudly before my December 7 ladies'
luncheon and never gave it another thought. It simply didn't occur to me that a
"cute" doormat on a smooth porch surface might need a non-slip pad or
rug gripper underneath to keep it from turning into a launching pad.
On the second Saturday of the month, I went out to retrieve the mail and a
stack of packages. (Deliveries have become a daily event here, thanks to Andrew
forwarding his mail while nothing has started on repairing their fire damaged house—so I'm
managing my holiday gifts, his holiday gifts, and a steady stream of
work-related parcels. But I digress.) I'd just collected the mail and was
stepping up onto the porch when I slipped. I ended up sprawled halfway inside
the house and halfway out, the doormat launched into the yard, my shoes
following suit, and the storm door closing on me for good measure.
Adrenaline and a strong desire not to become a neighborhood spectacle (don't get me started) got me back
inside quickly, so I didn't fully register the damage at first. It wasn't until
Sunday morning, when I tried to get out of bed, that the extent hit me:
softball-sized bruises blooming across my body, deep lateral ones along my
back, and a general ache in every joint and muscle.
Monday brought a small bright spot—a UPS box I knew contained my nephew's
homemade Christmas cookies, a cherished tradition. Eager for my treat, I
stepped outside, planted my foot on the doormat... and it shot out from under
me like a rocket. This time I fell backward, ending up half on the porch, half
dangling over the step, and sprawled across the sidewalk. The UPS driver
witnessed the whole thing but simply drove off. Charming.
I crawled back into the house clutching the box. I tore into it like a jackal while still lying on the
entryway floor, and promptly ate three cookies for breakfast. (Whatever magic
my nephew works into those cookies is powerful—I transferred the rest to a
freezer bag because I love them frozen, and by lunchtime I'd polished off five more.)
The rest of the week I looked—and felt—like I'd gone a few rounds in a
prizefight. I began wondering if something was off with my balance until I
reviewed the Ring doorbell footage of both incidents. The culprit? The festive
holiday doormat I'd bought on a whim. The moment weight hit it, it skittered
right off the porch. When Andrew stopped by, I handed it over with instructions
to dispose of it properly. Farewell, cute but treacherous rug.
There you have it—December's adventures in automotive woes and unintended
acrobatics.
Happy New Year! Stay upright, my friends, stay upright!
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