face plant

Last weekend, the weather at the ranch was beautiful,

cold and clear.

The dog and I took a walk up the mountain.

How blithe.

As part of my continuing education, called Life, on our way back down the ranch road, my shoelace lassoed a spike on the cattle guard, and I crashed and burned. Did a total face plant down onto the metal bars. Somehow, my Kryptonite sunglasses protected my face. Mostly. I sat for a bit, resumed breathing and took inventory; there was enough blood for good drama, but that was all.

When I got back down to the house, I put my feet up and iced my face. To pass the time, I got out my iPhone and went into the Pollock Zone. That app is a remarkable anesthetic; does wonders for pain and plane rides. I did this wry self-portrait. It's the only image you'll ever see. Take my word for it, it's a fair rendition of the wreckage.

Considering I should be dead, my fat lip was a miracle.