"I got shot off my horse,

So what, I'm up again"* ...

Everything is supposed to happen in threes, say the old legends and tales, and stories from the twilight zone, and old ladies in airports.

The end of last week, I fell over my dishwasher. Well, actually, I flew over my dishwasher, as the door was down and I was walking while reading, which I thought was not as bad as running with scissors, but as truths are told in fables, alas, it is probably the same thing, as some part of my body hit something foreign and large, and then the standard line beginning 'next thing I knew' enters my story...

I was on the floor, somewhere in the kitchen, while various parts of my body began wondering what had happened, as my brain began to register the feel of the signals of pain and send messages under lined with the subtext of 'you idiot'.

Yet, I have to say, 'my egregious error', as it had been I who left the dishwasher door open, prone to the multitasking gene that would probably function better with medication that I have always refused to take, thinking myself better than most at multi-tasking, but certainly proving by my life that is not even so in the slightest regard. Perhaps I should, again, weigh the good and bad of that decision.

Blathering on, I was to discover, that was one of two because yesterday, I was stabbed by the silverware in my dishwasher. It was a direct hit with a very sharp knife, most likely the only one I own, and the penetration of said weapon entered in the finger, again most likely, the only place where blood would profusely flow at a great speed making one unable to find the wound directly upon observation, and so causing a peril of panic in the mind. I mean ~*blood* ~ so, surely, we are perhaps maybe could be dying.

While addressing that wound, that's when it hit me ~ I am on the count down of doom list, as everyone knows --Things happen in threes.


Threes. One, two ....


Oh dread, now I must wait for the one more thing that might kill me. Perhaps, I should go to bed and stay there.

As it happens, according to all who gather statistics and put them in places where you can find them easily with a quick Goggle search just in case you should wish to scare yourself with something that day, and, myself already knowing the grand total of most accidents happen in the home, and, I am standing there, in the place where I had, on many occasions, considered myself safe, but was now on my way to bearing out two of the most dreaded statements we all live with:

1. Things (always) happen in threes.

2. Most (the majority of) accidents happen in the home.

And with the most serious accidents being credited to the kitchen (look it up)! My thinking was, after being flailed across the kitchen and stabbed by my dishwasher, I should go work outside today.

Hah! It didn't take long for the strings in the universe to connect the dots belonging to human behavior and zero in on keeping with those strange truths that we pass on for generation to generation.... And, bingo!

My hand clippers chopped off a piece of my thumb.

But, tedious as it may have been, it's over now, and I am out of the legend of curses loop and ready to live another day.

Have a safe and happy day,


Miss Roxie

*Mark Knopfler ~ Everybody pays to play