I started yesterday by performing a less than delicate slip and fall in the shower. All I could think of (aside from words only heard in the Navy) was that I was glad I didn't die, because I wouldn't want the CSI team to have to go over the scene. I like to think William Petersen might still be my second husband. No, I didn't die and I didn't pass out, although I did smack my head against the soap dish either before or after landing solidly on my left hip. I think I came pretty close to, but not all the way to, a concussion because it feels more like I got kicked between the eyes than bashed in the back of the head. Unless I put my hand to the whacked spot, however, then I can really tell where contact was made. (I do this about once an hour on purpose and a far fewer times by accident, absent-mindedly scratching my head until reminded by the blinding pain.)

I immediately went out after work and bought a bath mat and different shampoo, since the one I'm currently using is very slippery. I didn't have a bath mat because of stupid reasons from long ago and I will never make that mistake again.

I was surprised this morning by how much I was able to bound out of bed. Part of that was probably due to my having tossed around all night as the injury is on the side I sleep on. I have minor pain in my hip, knee and kneck. What really hurts most is my teeth, which were bothering my slightly before all this. I should have a lovely bruise sometime soon, once the blood makes its way through the fat layers.

The wedding was beautiful. Cold, but beautiful. Actually the weather fit the theme of the wedding perfectly and the swirling snow outside the votive-lit windows made it all feel very Laura Ingalls Wilder. Hubband and I were both beside ourselves over what beautiful ladies these girls had become. It seemed impossible that the last time we'd seen them they had been little girls. Makes me not want to lose touch with the ones I see growing up before me now.

The passing of Johnny Carson finds me a bit whistful and sad that my son will never be able to experience "The Tonight Show" in its glory. Some of my fondest memories were enjoying that show with my mother (we would both laugh until we cried) and then with my husband. I don't care about hearing his wife's 911 call or seeing pictures that are obviously disturbing the man's peace. I would like it if NBC would run the shows again.