The last couple of days have been painful and frustrating. Yesterday, when I was closing the front door, my thumb caught (I won’t explain just that it was silly). When I pulled my thumb free, I fell down the front steps, hit the planters and a garden sculpture and fell onto the grass. My thumb was bleeding down my hand to my arm. The wound looked like a smiley face without the eyes. It was a skin flap. I got into the house, put on bandaids then washed the front door which looked like the scene of a house invasion or a murder. I then left for my uke lesson. By the time I got home my leg was so swollen you could see the lump through my pants. It is painful to sit and painful to walk. My lower leg has abrasions but just a little swelling. As falls go, this one was spectacular.

Last night I could not watch the Sox. My Xfinity Stream had an error message. I looked to find out more and still had no idea what had happened. It opened my iPad. I checked YouTube and did a few of the suggestions. No luck. I have spent this morning in a rabbit hole of frustrating suggestions, none of which worked. I do not know what to do next except scream out the back door.

My first spectacular fall was when I was four. I had learned to jump off the high fence backwards. It was almost an Olympic worthy maneuver. I asked my mother to watch, and she did from our apartment window. I hit the ground and braced myself with my hands. My Olympic hopes were dashed. Later my mother took me to the hospital. I had a buckle fractured wrist. I was proud of that cast. The next fall requiring medical attention was when I was 10. I fell down the stairs, hit a table against the wall and opened my chin. I got stitches.

I have had other falls resulting in broken teeth and broken bones including that after uke practice fall followed by an ambulance ride, but, of late, my falls had been commonplace. Yesterday broke that streak.

My safari continues to be successful. Yesterday I caught and released 3 mice bringing the total to 5. I set 4 traps last night and will check later. This time I used a bit of cheddar. I figured they were tired of peanut butter. I have had mice periodically over the years. I remember when my mother was visiting and we were in the den. She saw a mouse. She didn’t freak. She thought it was cute. She wasn’t afraid of bugs either. She one told me when they were kids, she and her sister, used to catch flies and take off their wings. That didn’t bother me. Flies are filthy.

When I opened the door to let the dogs out, yup, I am still the one, the wind blew the door out of my hand. Everything is being blown. Even the heaviest limbs are bowing. Still, today is another lovely day. It is 62°. The sun and blue sky have hung around since yesterday. Nala will be sunning herself lying on the grass in the backyard. She is my barometer.

When I was a kid, I loved my spring jacket. After the layers of winter, it felt like a freedom of sorts. It had a zipper and two pockets. It was light blue. Sometimes I had to wear a sweater under it but mostly the jacket was enough. Things stay with us, sometime big memories but sometimes small memories we don’t realize we’re tucking away. A long while back I saw spring jackets on sale. One was gray. It had a zipper and two pockets. I bought it prompted by a small memory from way back in my memory drawers. I’m going to take it out of the closet. Its time has come.

Yesterday was a day for the birds, literally. I saw a cardinal couple. First I saw her but he quickly followed. His feathers were just so striking. I was sorry when he flew away. A chickadee was gathering material for a nest. She was pulling grass off my deck steps. I was amazed by how much she carried. My wild rose bushes in front bloom once a year. My landscaper keeps wanting to cut them down. I don’t let him. They are a part of old Cape Cod. Not only that, but there is always a nest when he trims them in the fall.

I am still a victim of plagues, not the Plagues of Egypt, but more localized plagues. First it was the gnats. Some still haunt me, but they are mostly gone. The ones left are in Jack’s room. I vacuum them up with my hand vacuum. They scurry then take to the air. I am good enough to catch them in flight. Now there are ants, not many and soon to be less. I bought ant traps. The mice are back in Jack’s room. They have been eating his treats. I had 4 mouse hotels for the last infestation but can’t find two of them. I did clean and bait the two I had and also ordered 4 more. I’ll check the traps when I go upstairs again then rebait them if my hunt has been successful. I choose not to imagine what’s next.

I should be standing on my deck singing O What a Beautiful Morning. Everything is perfect: the sun, the sky, the temperature and the still air. It is already 62°. The sky is dark blue with not a single cloud. The breeze sways mostly the smaller branches. The sun is brilliant.

The forsythias are still in bloom. The bright yellow bushes dot yards and lend color to the remnants of winter. The oak trees have just started to bud. We are always late to spring on Cape Cod.

When I was a kid, I loved everywhere around me. I had the woods, the field, the swamp and blueberry bushes. Every season gave me something wonderful. I watched the tadpoles grow into frogs at the swamp. I ate the blueberries. I chased grasshoppers and fireflies. I ice skated on the swamp in the middle and followed the frozen channels. One day, though, all of that started to disappear. Heavy equipment took down the trees, plowed under the field and destroyed the swamp and the blueberry bushes. All of these wonderful places, enchanted places, were replaced by brick buildings, apartments for the elderly, what my father called wrinkle city. The woods where we had buried my turtle disappeared one day when I was in school. The first brick buildings were built around there. My grandmother moved into one of the first buildings. I remember how small her apartment was. My father visited her just about every week. He’d con me into going with him when I visited my parents for the weekend. That visit could not be short enough.

My sloth has been holding sway for a while. I did sweep the hall but only because the amount of dog fur had formed clumps which covered the floor. My mop has been in the kitchen for weeks. I had intended to wash the kitchen floor but haven’t yet. I just step over the mop. The polishing cloths are on the counter. They haven’t moved in a while. I have a list. It is gathering dust.

My dance card is fairly empty for the week. I have a doctor’s appointment today, my usual uke practice Tuesday and my lesson on Wednesday but only one concert, on Friday. The book for the month is Beach Boys.