There was a period in my life when falling down had become common place to me. As far back as 4 years old, I can remember running after my Mother and falling on the concrete walkway, skinning both of my knees. As I sat with bloodied knees on my Mothers' lap and cried, I remember her comforting me. Do I remember this because it was so traumatic for a 4 year old, or would this be the start of a lifelong pattern?
It was a number of years that had passed before I took another big fall. . .this time at my engagement party. The party was held in my parents basement, which meant that all the food had to be carted down the basement stairs. I had on a pair of white high heels and all day long I listened to my Mother say, "Take off those shoes, you're going to fall...take off those damn shoes, you're going to fall.". How could I take off the shoes, they went with the outfit!! And of course after having it drummed into my head for hours, I did indeed fall. Tumbling head first down the basement stairs as I carried a large glass platter of ham and a smaller one of butter. My Dad was sitting at a table in the basement and saw me start to go down, but was unable to do anything since the fall was already in progress. The platters went down first and shattered on the concrete floor...I soon followed with a full somersault motion, landing spread eagle on the broken platters and about an inch away from a basement support pole. As I sat up, I noticed that the white high heels were gone from my feet. Had they fallen off as I fell? No...my Mother had ripped them off my feet as I lay on the basement floor, and that was the last I had ever seen of them. Well, she did warn me that I would fall!!!
As I was helped up, I looked down and noticed that my dress was covered in blood...when I landed, my hand hit the broken glass and I had a deep gash from my thumb toward my wrist. My engagement party ended with a visit to the emergency room and a number of stitches in my hand. It was very surprising that I didn't break any bones, and had only lost a pair of shoes in the process.
My next major tumble took place at Niagara Falls, Canada. This was a very popular destination for us for many years. On one occasion, we were walking down Clifton Hill, which is a very busy street lined with gardens, tourist shops, tour buses, and of course, tourists. And it is indeed a hill!
My ensemble for that day included a halter top, wide leg slacks, and a pair of high wedged sandals...the emphasis is on 'high'! A hideous outfit to say the least, let alone one in which to do a dramatic roll into the street. Yes, I had literally fallen off my shoe and tumbled into the street directly in front of a stopped tour bus...I could almost see the tourists snapping my picture as I scooped myself up in total embarrassment and rushed back to the curb! The only thing worse would have been if my halter top had come off. Again, nothing broken except my pride!
At an upscale department store in a local shopping mall, I was just passing the makeup counters when my ankle gave way and down I went. Embarrassed, I picked myself up and of course did the 'look back' to see what had tripped me, then continued on my way...a few feet later, I went down AGAIN! The utter humiliation!
This wasn't the first time that I had fallen in that mall. On an earlier shopping excursion I had tripped (on what, I have no idea), and slid on my knees across the mall concourse like a Broadway dancers big finale. How did I ever get up the momentum to slide that far? I looked up, and out of nowhere, a security guard was asking me if I was 'ok'...do I look 'OK'?.
We had attended a Cub Scout Rally at Old Fort Niagara quite a few years ago when we were involved in scouting. I was walking along side a ditch (now you'd think that by this time I would know better than to walk along side a ditch...here's an accident waiting to happen), with my husband and friends, just chatting, when somehow I lost my footing and tumbled into the ditch...one minute I was talking and the next minute I was rolling. There was no sympathy from anyone, just laughter. Of course, this could have been an opportunity for a scout to work on his first aid merit badge.
When I went back to work, I got a position as a receptionist ('Greeter' was the official term which I always hated because it sounded like someone from a prom committee), in a car dealership. In the showroom was what they called a 'podium', but which was in fact a desk at the top of 3 carpeted stairs. One afternoon as I started to walk down the steps, the heel of my shoe got caught on the rug. As I started to fall down the stairs, I grabbed onto my chair...unfortunately, the chair was on rollers...oh yes, I took it right down with me. The salesmen that were standing there just looked at me. A little help here, please!
Another fall I took at work was going up the stairs to my office while I was holding a mug of coffee. I almost made it to the top, but as my foot touched the step, it stopped, but I kept going. I tried not to spill the coffee which I think made the fall worse than it might have been if I had just gone with the falling action. When I hit the floor, I also hit the office door and the metal door frame, with my head...as I lay there in a puddle of coffee, the door suddenly opened and there was my boss, who was having a meeting at the time, saying 'Oh my God, it's Carole!'. Now I knew that I took a hard hit to my head because it really hurt and I could feel an indentation in it. They sat me on a chair and started to ask me questions to see if I was coherent. I figured that it would be a good idea to get some x-rays taken just to make sure that I didn't have a concussion. When I made the decision to go to the emergency room, they told me that I also had to go for a drug test, just to make sure that drugs weren't the cause of my fall. Well, that's a story in itself...a first time drug test! Anyway, I ended up with a contusion and after all of this, didn't even break the mug.
Recently, at a family picnic in a beautiful county park, I took my sons' dog, Traveler, for a walk across a large meadow. Traveler is a 100 pound Alaskan Malamute, and the sweetest dog that you'd ever want to meet!! I knew that he had to take a dump, so, geared with my little plastic 'poopie' bag, I volunteered to take him. We walked around the perimeter of the meadow near the trees, but all he was interested in was getting some sniffing time in. When we neared the road, he finally took up his 'dump stance' and proceeded to do his business as I encouraged him..."What a good boy Traveler is!!!". After he finished, my encouragement must have really sunk in because he started to run circles around me, frantically, as fast as he could. Little did I know, everyone was watching and commenting on what Traveler was doing to me. I tried in vain to halt his run, but when I couldn't, I bent over to try and pick up the shit with my little bag because I figured that he was going to run right through it. The next thing I knew, I was hurled into the air. You know that feeling when something is happening that you can't believe and you can't do anything about it? Well, that's how I felt. I could feel him run under me and I was afraid that I would fall on top of him. I landed on my side with my one foot flat on the ground and the leash still around my wrist. As I looked to the side where the picnic was, I saw my son, Eric, slowly walking toward me. I was puzzled as to why he was walking so slowly, but later found out that he was afraid that if he ran, Traveler would run to him with me in tow. I sat up, started to move body parts just to make sure that they worked, and then got up, no worse for wear...at least that's what I thought. The next day I could hardly move...everywhere on my body hurt! My son made me feel so much better when he told me that people from the road were watching what had happened. It took months for the pain in my shoulder and foot to go away. A lesson learned...NEVER try to pick up dog shit when the dog is celebrating his dump!
I often wonder if all of these falls over the years were perhaps the result of klutziness...or were they the manifestation of depression and low self-esteem? Or, maybe it's as simple as being so wrapped up in where I'm going...what I'm doing...what I'm looking at...who I'm talking to, that I don't pay attention to how or where I'm walking (shoes play a big part in this too). Whatever the reason, I've never broken a single bone, and for that, I feel very lucky...BUT, one day I'll probably disintegrate into a heap of bones because of 'retroactive breakage'.
twinkle, twinkle, little star. . .
somersaults, hide and seek. . .
innocence of times long gone. . .
those children sang a carefree song. 
On the morning of July 3rd, I sat down at the computer to write this poem that I had been thinking about the night before...little did I know the impact this poem would have.
My cousin Jackie and I loved shopping for shoes when we were teenagers. There was a shoe store called 'Bakers' that always had the latest styles on sale and we couldn't resist taking advantage of that! We were together when I bought my wedding shoes there, and I only paid $1 for them.....white satin pumps, can you believe it, just what I was looking for. I still have those shoes, and now they're forty years old!! I think I got my money's worth!!
I remember as a kid, having play high heels that had a strap of elastic to hold them on....of course I also remember falling off of them all the time, but they were fun. Wearing mom's high heels, gloves in hand, pop-it beads around our necks, and a purse hanging over the crook of our arm, made us feel like little grown up ladies, ready for shopping or tea. Could this shoe thing be inborn??.....who knows. What I do know is that I just love shoes, and sometimes cannot resist buying a pair that I just have to have.....but in fact, end up never being worn.
Go-Go boots????....what was I thinking???....don't even ask!!
I'm surprised that I didn't buy more of these.......they came in so many colors!!! When I got home, I figured that I had better practice walking in them. When I put them on, my balance immediately became very tilted....forward!!! Uh, let's see, am I supposed to walk on a slant???? But they looked so goooood!!!! I hope they enjoy where they're living!
"There's no place like home, there's no place like home".....you don't want to know!!!
These are my latest 'had to haves'......I can actually walk in them, but haven't worn them as of yet.
It was a beautiful day for the beach...sunny, but chilly, which warranted us wearing warmer coats since it's always cooler near the water.
Jerry went fishing at one end of the beach and I went 'hunting' at the other. After a few loud choruses of Brenda Lee's 'All Alone Am I', 'Big Spender' (from 'Sweet Charity'), and 'Are the Stars Out Tonight'. I got down to the business at hand...finding glass. 
I was in my glory!! A gorgeous day, an empty beach, the sound of the waves teasing the shore (one of my favorite sounds), what more could I ask for.
The glass on this beach is not what I normally find at the inlet, which always has an abundance of pottery and pieces of restaurant ware. This glass is well weathered, showing it's time in the water has been long. But these are the highly coveted pieces that collectors look for...these are the pieces that make beautiful jewelry. The most unusual color that I found today was a small piece of vivid pink, most of the rest was white, aqua, green, brown, some cobalt blue, and an occasional lavender. The best piece that I found was the side of an old Coca Cola bottle...a perfect find! My bucket was full since I had ventured farther than ever along the shore, time to see if Jerry caught anything. 
Another item was a rather sizable bra...we figure that there might be a story to tell between the recliner and the bra...hmmmm....let's just use our imaginations!!
After living with this lovely piece for quite a few years, it got to a point that I just couldn't look at it for even one more day. So, like I usually did when I wanted something removed, I asked Jerry to take it in the basement (where all unwanted furniture went to die), with me, but that was just not on his agenda. Well, after asking him for some time, and not getting any response, I took this upon myself to do (here's where that adage comes in). How hard can this be????? After all, I WAS freakishly strong ( I really was). I told Jerry that I would 'do it myself' and he kept telling me not to even try it, but he tells me a not to do a lot of things...ask him how often I listen!
Eastertime is filled with wonderful sites, sounds, and most of all smells. Nowhere is that more true than at the Broadway Market, an Old World, European style marketplace that caters to all ethnic backgrounds. It has changed drastically over the years, and was at one time, a daily shopping place for the local eastside neighborhood and other areas of Buffalo, New York.
One of my favorite collections are 'Vintage Wedding Cake Toppers'. At the moment, I have over 100 of them, from various eras. The more worn that they are, the better I like them. Here are just a few photos from my collection.
('Collection' story soon to be published)
'Underwood 1913' is reminiscent of using an
Aside from glass, the beach in winter has many other offerings.....namely beach debris. These washed up 'artifacts', if you will, make for great photographs. It's so much fun to wander the snow and ice covered beach in search of interesting finds. Even the ice formations can be amazingly beautiful....like crystals, slowly melting and dripping back into the lake water. Driftwood is strewn everywhere, and walking on it can be a challenge. I can find beauty and a photo in just about anything, as my many photos of old tires can attest to. Even the carcasses of dead animals that have washed up on the shore after nature, with it's winter brutality, has had it's way with them, and although rather gruesome, can be interesting subjects to photograph. What's truly great though, is being able to enjoy the beach no matter what season it is...and each season has it's own individual personality.
White rubber bathing caps with straps, to keep our hair dry, which they really didn't do since they never fit all that well; cousins, lined up like bathing beauties, all dressed alike in purple plaid swim suits. . .Aunt Jenny never forgot any of us. . .these are the visions that I remember of Willow Beach, one of the fondest memories I have of my childhood. 
