I am a guy who likes to be doing stuff. I don't sit still well (so, logically I write) Maybe because as a kid I was just too sickly a lot of very early years to do much at all. I got better... and my body has never quite managed to be as tough as I'd like it, but life was for living, and yeah, skin and bone heal... roll on 50 and your body says ow! quite a lot, but I have lived, and done and experienced. And anyway this morning i got a pointed reminder that it doesn't help to live the cautious life. I'd been out since five, after wallaby, returned safe and sound from that, bounces, bounding over electric fences, bush and its obstacles and dangers, using dangerous tools... etc. and then I walked briskly to feed the pig - across the neatly trimmed lawn, and looking at the pig on her hind feet, had the most horrible fall I've had for ten years, putting my foot into a hole I knew was there and coming down really hard (and my helpful dogs rushed to my aid and started wolfing down pig-food while I lay there groaning. Pig was not pleased). I am now extremely sore, and my back, neck and forearm are cursing me. So is my head, and I feel really shaken up - from silly fall in my own garden.
Anyway, it just goes to show. You may as well go to sea, climb cliffs, go diving. At least when you break your neck in your own garden - or getting out of bed, you'll have lived a little first. Still, being sore does bring home just how much of the self-sufficiency stuff falls to my lot. Barbs does her bit, but it tends towards the less unusual. So I better try stay alive or who will get the tucker?
Going to take a pill and go to bed.